
OCT 4 itt»6 



y 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 

Chap...„._, Copyright No. 

,C5 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



HOW TO TEACH 



BEADING} IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 



BY 

SrH;"" CLARK, Ph.B. 



OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO 



Author of "How to Read Aloud " and Associate Author of " Principles of Vocal 
Expressions Mental Technique and Literary Interpretation " 



CHICAGO 

SCOTT, FORESMAN AND COMPANY 

1898 



.05 






Copyright 1898, 
By SCOTT, FORESMAN AND COMPANY 



8EP2-91»ye ] 




tCfciV£D« 



"^^V^l^l^ 



PRESS OF 

THE HENRY O. SHEPARD CO. 

CHICAGO. 



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CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Preface 7 

Introduction 9 

Chapter I. The Criterion of Time 19 

II. The Criterion of Pitch .... 42 

III. The Criterion of Quality .... 80 

IV. The Criterion of Force .... 101 
V. The Mental Attitude of the Reader . .117 

VI. Grouping 128 

VII. Succession of Ideas 132 

VIII. Central Idea 138 

IX. Subordination 149 

X. Values 157 

XI. Emotion 172 

XII. Atmosphere 184 

XIII. Contrasts. .^ 205 

XTV. Climaxes 212 

XV. Concluding Remarks on Method . . . 224 

XVI. Literary Interpretation .... 231 

Index 291 



PEEFAOE 

This book is intended as a manual for teachers of reading 
in the public schools. In its preparation the theory was, 
first, that the teacher should have a thorough knowledge of 
how thought and feeling are expressed — in other words he 
must haye the criteria of expression; and, second, that he 
should have a definite graded method of instruction, in which 
the simple shall precede the complex, and in which one 
element, and one only, shall be presented at a time. 

The book is, therefore, an endeavor to assist the teacher of 
reading, first, by explaining the psychology of the criteria of 
expression; second, by presenting a practical method of in- 
struction ; and, third, by discussing certain definite principles 
of literary interpretation. 

Parts of this book have been given to the public by the 
author, in Principles of Vocal Expression and Hoiv to Read 
Aloud ^ the latter of which is now out of print. The interest 
in these two books is a cause for gratitude and it is hoped the 
present manual may serve its purpose equally well. 

S. H. CLAEK. 



INTEODUCTION 



It is universally conceded that the public schools fail to 
give children much power as readers. One authority asserts 
that, after the child's twelfth year, his ability as a reader 
steadily declines. (Up to that time he is gradually acquiring 
greater mastery over words, and so, in a sense, may be said to 
be improving.) Testimony can be added that, by the time he 
reaches the university, the average student cannot read at all. 

Many remedies have been suggested, from which two may 
be selected as typical. One is to call the attention of the 
child to the mechanics of vocal expression — to inflection, force, 
movement, and so forth. The other (that commonly 
employed), to tell the child to get the thought. It cannot be 
denied that both methods have, in isolated cases, been pro- 
ductive of some good, yet, on the whole, they have been 
well-nigh barren of results. Let us inquire briefly into the 
causes. 

The mechanical method fails, especially with younger 
people, because it is dry, technical, unstimulating, and, in 
the main, uninteresting. It deals with rules for the use of 
the different elements of vocal expression, telling the child he 
must use a rising inflection here, a falling inflection there; 
that he must read parenthetical phrases and clauses in lower 
pitch and faster time ; that this emotion should be manifested 
in normal quality, that emotion in orotund quality ; and so on 



10 INTRODUCTION 

through weary, dreary rules and principles, the study of 
which has seldom done any good and oftentimes much harm. 
The "get-the-thought" method is a revolt against the other 
plan. Recognizing the fact that drills in the elements have 
done nothing toward elevating the standard of reading, the 
conscientious principal or superintendent tells his teachers that 
they must see to it that the scholars get the thought. This 
is a step in the right direction, but it must be acknowledged 
that it does not produce results. And the chief reasons for 
this are two. First, for one cause or another the finer shades of 
meaning escape too many teachers. Second, very few teachers 
have received the necessary training to enable them to discern 
quickly with what mental conditions various forms of vocal 
expression are associated. In other words, they have not the 
criteria of vocal expression; and, in consequence, helpful 
criticism is impossible. 

Why have previous methods of teaching reading practically 
failed? There are three reasons : first, the lack of apprecia- 
tion of the best literature on the part of the teacher ; second, 
the complexity of vocal expression; and thh'd, the intangi- 
bility of vocal expression. 

Appreciation of the meaning and beauty of literature is 
the first requisite of a successful teacher of reading ; and yet 
there is little opportunity afforded the teacher to get this 
appreciation. Is it not true that too many teachers have no 
love for real literature? The fault is not theirs, but that of the 
method of teaching literature that substitutes grammar, phil- 
ology, history, and lectures about literature for the study of 



INTRODUCTION 11 

the meaning and beauty of the literature itself. One may 
safely assert that thousands of children would be better read- 
ers, even with the present faulty methods, if their teachers 
had a genuine interest in the best literature. Of what avail is 
it to put good literature into the schoolbooks if its merit does 
not appeal as well to the instructor as to the pupil? The 
stream can rise no higher than its source. There is, however, 
a rapidly growing sentiment against the substitution of 
parsing, history, philology, or ethics for genuine literary 
training. We are coming to recognize that literature is art, 
beauty, spirit; and, when this recognition becomes general, 
we shall have better teachers and better readers. For there is 
nothing that so stimulates our vocal expression as the desire to 
impress upon others the beauty and feeling of what has 
impressed ourselves. 

Complexity may be defined by illustration. A phrase may 
be read fast or slowly ; in high or low key ; with one melody 
or another ; with loud or subdued force ; with this quality of 
voice or with that. Now all these elements are present at one 
time; so that, without proper training, the teacher is unable to 
discriminate between them and hence unable to give the 
needful correction, without which there can be no progress. 

Intangibility may be explained by showing what is meant 
by a tangible subject. The spelling* lesson is tangible; the 
arithmetic lesson is tangible. A mistake is easily recognized 
and corrected. Three months after a paper on these subjects 
has been handed in, the teacher can go back to it and exam- 
ine it. But vocal expression is evanescent, and, by the 



12 INTRODUCTION 

untrained, can be recalled imperfectly, if at all, and then only 
a short time after it has been heard. In the presence of 
the combined difficulties due to complexity and intangibility, 
the teacher is appalled ; and, conscientious though he be, he 
gives up in despair. The teaching becomes perfunctory; the 
children lose interest ; and there is the end of reading. Eead- 
ing, which should be the brightest and most inspiring of 
lessons, degenerates into a humdrum, dry-as-dust time-killer. 
Good reading is as rare as the classical bird. No idea of a 
pupil's reading ability can be gained from a knowledge of the 
class he is in. He is no better reader in the highest public- 
school grade than he is in the grade two or three below the 
highest. The teacher has come to recognize the futility of 
his efforts ; and so, in many class rooms, the time set apart for 
reading is given up to language lessons, composition, and other 
studies, valuable in themselves, but only incidentally helpful 
in increasing the pupil's reading power. 

It may be asked, what objects are to be attained as a result 
of reading lessons? There are two. ^First, to give us the 
power to extract thought from the printed page. After we 
leave school, our information is gained from books ; and what 
we get from these is largely determined by om' school training. 
Our system of education has a great deal to answer for when 
it fails to provide this training. The value of vocal expres- 
sion is not to be depreciated, but of the utmost importance is 
the ability to get the author's meaning. Our teaching, from 
the primary grade to the university, is lamentably weak in this 
direction. A well-known college professor, in response to a 



INTRODUCTION 13 

school superintendent's question as to what would better the 
preparation of secondary-school students for college, replied : 
''For Heaven's sake, teach them how to read." Another 
college instructor — a learned authority on geology — states 
that he finds occasion to remark to his classes about once 
a month, "It's a great thing to be able to read a page of 
English." No one who examines the reading in our 
schools can fail to be struck, not so much with the absence 
of expressive power, as with the absence of mental grasp. 
We are so anxious to get on that we are content with 
skimming the surface, and do not take the time to get 
beneath it. The reading lesson should be, primarily, a think- 
ing lesson, and every shade of thought should be carefully 
determined, no matter how long a time may be consumed. 
The habit of hurrying over the page, which is so prevalent, 
is clearly an outgrowth of schoolroom methods. Careless 
of all the future, we are too prone to push the pupil 
along, ignoring the simplest and most evident of psycho- 
logical laws, that thought comes by thinking, and thinking 
takes time. 

One tires of the universal excuse for the laxity of our 
methods : we have not the time. The reply to teacher, super- 
intendent, and school board is, we have no time to teach a sub- 
ject poorly. If thought-getting — ^genuine thought-getting — 
were insisted on from the outset, without doubt the work which 
now requires six or seven years to accomplish could be done in 
five. How much thought power has the public-school gradu- 
ate? Very little. And yet, if all lessons — history, geography, 



14 INTRODUCTION 

arithmetic, and the rest — were made thought lessons, a child 
of fourteen would be on the road to educating himself when 
he left school. Is it not pitiful to see a bright boy or girl 
spending three or four hours a day in the preparation of his 
lessons, and then coming to class only to find that he has 
wasted and worse than wasted his time? In taking leave of 
this theme, the teacher is urged to ponder these noble words 
of a noble man, "When thou readest, look steadfastly with 
the mind at the things the words symbolize. If there be 
question of mountains, let them loom before thee ; if of the 
ocean, let its billows roll before thy eyes. This habit will 
give to thy voice even pliancy and meaning. The more 
sources of interest we have, the richer is our life. To hold 
any portion of truth in a vital way is better than to have its 
whole baggage stored merely in one's memory." And, 
again, "He who thinks for himself is rarely persuaded by 
another. Information and inspiration he gladly receives, 
but he forms his own judgment. Arguments and reasons 
which, to the thoughtful, sound like mockery, satisfy the super- 
ficial and ignorant. ' ' And there is no better way to develop 
such a thinking person than by careful training in reading. 

Most readers, like good-natured cows, 

Keep browsing and forever browse ; 

If a fair flower come in their way 

They take it too, nor ask, ''What, pray!'* 

Like other fodder it is food, 

And for the stomach quite as good. 

Training in thought-getting is, then, the first result to be 
expected from the reading lesson. The second is the power 



INTRODUCTION 15 

of adequate vocal expression. The temptation to enlarge upon 
the many benefits to body, voice, mind, and soul, to say 
nothing of the practical worldly benefits of vocal expression, is 
resisted. It is taken for granted that they are recognized ; so 
that we pass on to the discussion of a plan that may help us to 
get these benefits ; prefacing the discussion with the statement 
that the evil results of our present laxity are not to be laid at 
the door of the individual teacher, but at that of the educa- 
tional system in general. 

This work makes no pretensions to treat in any detail 
reading as an art. Its sole object is to present the ideal of 
the reading lesson and suggest ways and means by which 
that ideal may be brought somewhat nearer to our grasp than 
it is at present. Nevertheless, to those who may desire to study 
reading as an art, it can be safely said, that we must first be 
good readers before we can be artists ; and since this is so, 
there should be much gain to them from a careful, definite 
study of the fundamental principles herein set forth. For 
special teachers of elocution, also, it is hoped that the book 
may prove of some value, as dealing with those elements with- 
out the understanding of which successful teaching of 
advanced work is impossible. 

Vocal culture, in the ordinary sense of the word, finds no 
place in this discussion. The reason for this omission will 
appear in the following pages. This much, however, may be 
stated here ; except under particularly favorable circumstances, 
very little can be done in voice training in our public schools ; 
but by the plan herein presented, the voices of our children 



16 INTRODUCTION 

may be made truly expressive, and that, after all, is of more 
Talne to them than mere technical facility. 

A¥hile the subject of primary school reading is not dis- 
cussed directly, the primary teacher should derive considerable 
assistance from the book, inasmuch as it aims to present the 
standard of criticism and the psychology of reading. With 
him rests to a great extent the success of any method of oral 
expression. That he should have a clear conception of the 
goal of the reading lessons and the manner of reaching it is 
therefore beyond dispute. 

The book has a double purpose. First, to assist the 
teacher to teach reading; second, to help the teacher to 
improve his own reading. The latter purpose explains the 
amount of illustrative matter, and also the fact that some of 
this is beyond the grasp of young and immature minds. 



PAET ONE 



THE CRITERIA OF VOCAL EXPRESSION 



CHAPTER I 



THE CRITEKIOX OF TIME 



It must be clear that no progress can be made in the 
teaching of any subject unless the teacher possess a definite 
standard of criticism; and, furthermore, it must be gi'anted 
that the teacher of reading does not possess this standard. We 
have a standard in spelling, in arithmetic, in geography, but 
none in reading — at least none clearly apprehended and scien- 
tifically applied. It is, therefore, the purpose of the first part 
of this book to present those elements of vocal expression — the 
four criteria — a knowledge of which is indispensable to any 
progress in the teaching of reading. These are. Time, Pitch, 
Quality, and Force, the fii'st of which we now proceed to 
study in detail. 

In Professor Raymond's admirable work, Tlie Orator'' s 
Manual^ there appear these significant words: "The relative 
time apportioned to a word indicates the miiuT s measurement 
of it, — ^represents the speaker's judgment as to the amount of 
meaning or importance that it conveys." A moment's 
thought must convince us of the truth of this statement. 
Making due allowance for certain speakers, who, for one 
cause or another, have an unusually slow or fast utterance, the 
principle laid down by Professor Raymond is, without doubt, 
psychologically sound. In fact, it is a platitude; but like 
many another platitude, its truth is so close to us that we fail 
to perceive its meaning and application. An additional proof 
of the soundness of this principle is found in music. A 

19 



20 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

solemn dirge, a funeral marcli, an anthem of praise is ren- 
dered in slow time ; while moderate and fast time seem the 
fitting expression of the lighter moods. 

Time, then, refers to the rate of vocal movement. It may 
be fast, or moderate, or slow, according to the amount of what 
may be called the collateral thinking accompanying the read- 
ing of any given passage. To put it another way: a phrase 
is read slowly because it means much ; because the thought is 
large, sublime, deep. The collateral thinking may be revealed 
by an expansive paraphrase. For instance, in the lines 

Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, 
As his corse to the ramparts we hurried, 

why do we read slowly? The paraphrase answers the question. 
It was midnight. There lay our beloved leader, who should 
have been borne in triumphal procession to his last resting 
place. Bells should have tolled, cannon thundered, and 
thousands should have followed his bier. But now, alas ! by 
night, by stealth, without even a single drum tap, in fear and 
dread, we crept breathless to the ramparts. This, or any 
one of a hundred other paraphrases, will suffice to render the 
vocal movement slow. And so it is with all slow time. Let it 
be remembered that a profound or sublime thought may be 
uttered in fast time ; but that when we dwell upon that thought, 
when we hold it before the mind, the time must necessarily be 
slow. 

The succeeding passages will have a prevailingly slow 
movement. Measure the thought carefully, and think the 
expansive paraphrase. These drills are not to train us to read 
slowly (for any one can do that), but to think largely. The 
movement will take care of itself. It is further urged that 
the student give considerable attention to this part of the 
subject; for the time so spent will be valuable not only 



THE CRITERION OF TIME 21 

as it results in expressive moYement, but because it is only 
through, meditation that the fullest insight into the meaning 
of a passage can be acquired. Hence, dwelling for a long 
period upon a pln-ase or sentence gives opportunity for the 
enkindling of the imagination and emotion. It has been fre- 
quently found that where a student's movement was out of 
harmony with the sentiment of the passage, his emotional 
interpretation was equally poor. A farther careful study of the 
text to improve the movement has generally resulted in the 
improvement of the emotional expression. 

Mr. Speaker: The mingled tones of sorrow, like the voice of 
many waters, have come imto us from a sister State — Massachu- 
setts — weeping for her honored son. The State I have the honor in 
part to represent once endured, with yours, a common suffering, 
battled for a common cause, and rejoiced in a common triumph. 
Surely, then, it is meet that in this the day of your affliction we 
should mingle our griefs. 

Search creation round, where can you find a country that pre- 
sents so sublime a view, so interesting an anticipation? Who shall 
say for what purpose mysterious Providence may not have designed 
her ! Who shall say that when in its follies or its crimes, the Old 
World may have buried all the pride of its power, and all the 
pomp of its civilization, hiunan nature may not find its destined 
renovation in the New ! When its temples and its trophies shall 
have mouldered into dust, — when the glories of its name shall be 
but the legend of tradition, and the light of its achievements live 
only in song, philosophy will revive again in the sky of her Frank- 
lin, and glory rekindle at the urn of her Washington. 

Often have I swept backward, in imagination, sis thousand 
years, and stood beside our great ancestor, as he gazed for the first 
time upon the going down of the sun. What strange sensations 
must have swept through his bewildered mind, as he watched the 
last departing ray of the sinking orb, unconscious whether he 
should ever behold its return. 



22 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Wrapped in a maze of thought, strange and startling, he suffers 
his eye to linger long about the point at which the sun has slowly 
faded from view, A mysterious darkness creeps over the face of 
Nature ; the beautiful scenes of earth are slowly fading, one by one, 
from his dimmed vision. 

You think me a fanatic to-night, for you read history, not with 
your eyes, but with your prejudices. But fifty years hence, when 
Truth gets a hearing, the Muse of History will i3ut Phocion for the 
Greek, and Brutus for the Roman, Hampden for England, La Fay- 
ette for France, choose Washington as the bright, consummate 
flower of our earlier civilization, and John Brown as the ripe fruit 
of our noonday, then, dipping her pen in the sunlight, will write 
in the clear blue, above them all, the name of the soldier, the 
statesman, the martyr, Toussaint L'Ouverture. 

Figure to yourself a cataract like that of Niagara, poured in 
foaming grandeur, not merely over one great precipice of two hun- 
dred feet, but over the successive ridgy precipices of two or three 
thousand, in the face of a mountain eleven thousand feet high, and 
tumbling, crashing, thundering down with a continuous din of far 
greater sublimity than the sound of the grandest cataract. The 
roar of the falling mass begins to be heard the moment it is loosened 
from the mountain ; it pours on with the sound of a vast body of 
rushing water ; then comes the first great concussion, a booming 
crash of thunders, breaking on the still air in mid-heaven; your 
breath is suspended, and you listen and look ; the mighty glittering 
mass shoots headlong over the main precipice, and the fall is so 
great that it produces to the eye that imxDression of dread majestic 
slowness of which I have spoken, though it is doubtless more rapid 
than Niagara. But if you should see the cataract of Niagara itself 
coming down five thousand feet above you in the air, there would 
be the same impression. The image remains in the mind, and can 
never fade from it ; it is as if you had seen an alabaster cataract 
from heaven. The sound is far more sublime than that of Niagara, 
because of the preceding stillness in those Alpine solitudes. In the 
midst of such silence and solemnity, from out the bosom of those 
glorious, glittering forms of nature, comes that rushing, crashing 
thunder-burst of sound ! If it were not that your soul, through the 



THE CRITERION OF TIME 23 

eye, is as filled and fixed with the sublimity of the vision as, 
through the sense of hearing, with that of the audible report, 
methinks you would wish to bury your face in your hands, and fall 
prostrate, as at the voice of the Eternal. 

How lovely are thy dwellings fair ! 

O Lord of Hosts, how dear 
The pleasant tabernacles are 

Where thou dost dwell so near ! 

My soul doth long and almost die 

Thy courts, O Lord, to see. 
My heart and flesh aloud do cry, 

O living God, for thee. 

There even the sparrow, freed from wrong, 

Hath found a house of rest ; 
The swallow there, to lay her young, 

Hath built her brooding nest ; 

Even by thy altars. Lord of Hosts, 

They find their safe abode ; 
And home they fly from round the coasts 

Towards thee, my King, my God. 



The following will illustrate fast moYement. Let there be 
no attempt to accelerate the speed, but let the thought and 
emotion themselves govern that. Xo examples are given to 
illustrate moderate time, since the student gets suflficient 
practice of this kind in almost everything he reads. 

Gloriously, Max! gloriously! There were sixty horses in the 
field, all mettle to the bone ; the start was a picture — away we went 
in a cloud — pell-mell — helter-skelter — the fooLs first, as usual, using 
themselves up. We soon pass them — first your Kitty, then my 
Blueskin, and Craven's colt last. Then came the tug— Kitty 
skimmed the walls — Blueskin flew over the fences — the colt neck- 



24 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

and-neck, and half a mile to run — at last the colt balked a leap and 
went wild. Kitty and I had it all to ourselves — she was three 
lengths ahead as we breasted the last wall, six feet, if an inch, and 
a ditch on the other side. Now, for the first time, I gave Blueskin 
his head — Ha, ha! Away he flew like a thunderbolt — over went 
the filly — I over the same spot, leaving Kitty in the ditch — walked 
the steeple, eight miles in thirty minutes, and scarcely turned a 
hair. 

Nice clothes I get, too, traipsing through weather like this ! My 
gown and bonnet will be spoiled. Needn't I wear 'em, then? 
Indeed, Mr. Caudle, I shall wear 'em. No, sir ! I'm not going out 
a dowdy to please you or anj^body else. Gracious knows! it isn't 
often that I step over the threshold. 

Before a quarter pole was pass'd. 

Old Hiram said, "He's going fast." 

Long ere the quarter was a half. 

The chuckling crowd had ceased to laugh ; 

Tighter his frightened jockey clung 

As in a mighty stride he swung. 

The gravel flying in his track. 

His neck stretched out, his ears laid back, 

His tail extended all the while 

Behind him like a rat -tail file ! 

Off went a shoe, — away it spun, 

Shot like a bullet from a gun ; 

The quaking jockey shapes a prayer 

From scraps of oaths he used to swear; 

He drops his whip, he drops his rein. 

He clutches fiercely for the mane ; 

He'll lose his hold, — he sways and reels, — 

He'll slide beneath those trampling heels! 

The knees of many a horseman quake. 

The flowers on many a bonnet shake, 

And shouts arise from left and right, 

' 'Stick on ! stick on ! " "Hould tight ! hould tight ! 

Cling round his neck; and don't let go, — 

That pace can't hold, — there! steady! whoa!" 



THE CRITERION OF TIME 35 

Then methought I heard a mellow sound, 

Gathering up from all the lower ground; 

Narrowing in to where they sat assembled, 

Low voluptuous music winding trembled, 

Wov'n in circles. They that heard it sigh'd, 

Panted hand-in-hand with faces pale, 

Swung themselves, and in low tones replied ; 

Till the fountain spouted, showering wide 

Sleet of diamond- drift and pearly hail. 

Then the music touch'd the gates and died; 

Rose again from where it seem'd to fail, 

Storm' d in orbs of song, a growing gale; 

Till thronging in and in, to where they waited, 

As 'twere a hundred-throated nightingale, 

The strong tempestuous treble thi-obb'd and palpitated; 

Ran into its giddiest whirl of sound, 

Caught the sparkles, and in circles. 

Purple gauges, golden hazes, liquid mazes. 

Flung the torrent rainbow round. 

Then they started from their places, 

Moved with violence, changed in hue, 

Caught each other with wild grimaces, 

Half -invisible to the view, 

Wheeling with precipitate paces 

To the melody, till they flew. 

Hair, and eyes, and limbs, and faces. 

Twisted hard in fierce embraces. 

Like to Furies, like to Graces, 

Dash'd together in blinding dew; 

Till, kill'd with some luxurious agony, 

The nerve-dissolving melody 

Flutter' d headlong from the sky. 

Let it not be supposed that any one of the foregoing 
extracts is to be read in nniformly slovv' or uniformly fast time ; 
that will change with each variation in the importance of the 
thought. "Without attempting to force any interpretation 
upon the student, an illustration is appended in which he 



26 EEADING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

may note how the relative importance of the ideas affects the 
rate of movement in the various phrases. 



3Ied. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home? 

Med. What tributaries follow him to Rome, 

Fast. To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels? 

Sloiv. You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless 

things ! 

Very slow. O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Kome, 
Med. and fast. Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft 

Fast. Have you climb' d up to walls and battlements, 

Fast. To towers and windows, yea, to chimney -tops, 

Med. YouT infants in your arms, and there have sat 

Med. The livelong day, with patient expectation, 

Med. To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome : 

Med. And when you saw his chariot but appear, 

Fast. Have you not made an universal shout, 

Fast. That Tiber trembled underneath her banks, 

Fast. To hear the replication of your sounds 

Fast. Made in her concave shores? 

Slow. And do you now put on your best attire? 

Med. And do you now cull out a holiday? 

Med. And do you now strew flowers in his way, 

Fast. That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? 

Begone ! 

Med. Rmi to your houses, fall upon your knees, 

Slow. Pray to the gods to intermit the plague 

Slow. That needs must light on this ingratitude. 



It must be evident that it is very difficult to suggest by a 
word the rate of speed at which one should render a given line. 
Fast and slow are relative terms. Certain speakers would 
consider slow reading what another would consider moderate. 
Yet there is on the whole a pretty general agreement as to the 
use of these terms. With this statement, we may proceed to 
an analysis of the selection to justify the marking. 



THE CRITERION OF TIME 27 

The citizens of Rome have just declared to the tribunes, 
enemies of Caesar, why the people are making holiday: "We 
make holiday to see Caesar, and to rejoice in his triumph." 
"Whereupon Marullus, one of the tribunes, begins his speech, 
endeavoring to convince the mob that there is absolutely 
nothing Caesar has done to merit this ovation. After the 
word "tributaries," the time is accelerated for the reason that 
all that follows, to the end of the query, is virtually repetitious, 
being included in the idea of tributaries. The indicated 
marking of lines four and five needs no justification. "Knew 
you not Pompey?" is a question containing reproach. The 
latter element will tend to retard the movement. "Many a 
time and oft" is repetitious; he is simply reminding them of 
well-known facts. When the speaker reaches "yea, to 
chimney -tops," the importance of the idea is at once manifest 
in the slow^er time, which continues to "arms, " when it again 
changes to medium and fast. The student may find it a good 
drill to examine the remaining lines, to see whether he agrees 
with or differs from the time -markings. 

Thus far we have been considering the element of time 
without regard to details. It is now necessary to note that 
time may be affected in two ways : by quantity and by pause. 
By dwelling upon the words the time may be retarded, and 
the same effect may be produced by frequent or long pauses. 
In the former instance, the mind is dwelling upon the thought 
while the voice is giving it expression ; and in the latter, the 
mind is dwelling upon the idea or the collateral thought 
between the words or groups. The two methods may be 
illustrated in the following extract: "Our Father, which 
art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name." One may read 
this with but one pause, after "Heaven"; or he may ap- 
propriately pause after "Father," "Heaven," and "hal- 
lowed." 



28 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

GEOUPIKG 

Study carefully the following extract, and then read it 
aloud : 

But when the gray dawn stole into his tent, 
He rose, and clad himself, and girt his sword, 
And took his horseman's cloak, and left his tent, 
And went abroad into the cold wet fog, 
Through the dim camp to Peran-Wisa's tent. 

We notice a tendency to break up the sentence into groups 
of varying length. This tendency is more or less instinctive ; 
and while there may be some difference of opinion as to the 
number of groups, yet it must be conceded that there is a 
definite underlying principle, which admits of no exception. 
For instance, one might read the fourth line as if it were but 
one group; another, with virtually the same idea in mind, 
might divide it into two gToups at the word "abroad." On 
the other hand, no one would read in this way: "And went 
abroad into the" — "cold wet fog through" — "the dim camp to 
Peran-Wisa's tent." 

Eead the following sentences aloud carefully, and it will 
be noticed that the same principle of grouping obtains : 

The star of Napoleon was just rising to its zenith as that of 
Washington was passing awa3^ 

The name and memory of Washington will travel with the 
Silver Queen of Heaven through sixty degrees of longitude, nor 
part company with her till she walks in her brightness through the 
Golden Gate of California, and passes serenely on to hold midnight 
court with her Australian Stars. 

The reading of these illustrations shows that grouping is 
entirely independent of punctuation. It is true that the spoken 
group may coincide with the grammatical group, but that 



THE CRITERION OF TIME 29 

is merely an accident. We group as we do, not because of 
punctuation marks, but for more fundamental and less con- 
ventional reasons. The function of the punctuation mark is 
to assist the reader in getting the author's thought. Tlie 
following example will illustrate this : 

The slaves who were in the hold of the vessel had been captured 
in Africa. 

It is plain that the clause introduced by *'who" is a 
restrictive one, and implies that there were other slaves on the 
vessel besides those mentioned. If we now insert commas 
after "slaves" and "vessel," the sentence becomes equivalent 
to, The slaves, and they were all in the hold of the vessel, had 
been captured in Africa. 

Note, again, how the sense would be obscured if the author 
had omitted the comma after "all" in this extract: 

For we are all, like swimmers in the sea, 
Poised on the top of a huge wave of fate. 

"We are not like swimmers in the sea, but poised on the 
top of a huge wave of fate, as swimmers in the sea are poised 
on waves of water. 

To prove that grouping is independent of punctuation, let 
the student read aloud the following; illustrations : 



The 



But, look you, Cassius, 
angry spot doth glow on Caesar's brow. 



I saw Mark Antony offer him a crown ; and, as I told you, he 
put it by once; but, for all that, to my thinking he would have 
had it . . . and, for mine own part, I dare not laugh. 

In the two preceding extracts, the reader would hardly 
pause after "But," "you," and the "and's." 



30 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

While we are on the subject of punctuation, it may be 
advisable to look at a few examples in which the understanding 
of the force of punctuation vitally affects the reading. In 
these lines from Tennyson's Ode on the Death of the Duhe 
of Wellington, students carelessly connect the phrase "sad 
and slow" with "Lead out the pageant." As a matter of 
fact, a moment's thought must show us that the opening 
sentence is complete in itself, and that "sad and slow" modi- 
fies "go." A careful reading of the text would reveal this, 
but a mind that had been trained to observe these matters of 
punctuation would have observed at once that the colon sepa- 
rated the two ideas, and, further, that the word modified by 
"sad and slow" was to be sought further on. Here is the 
passage : 

Lead out the pageant : sad and slo-^ 

As fits a universal woe, 

Let the long long procession go, 

And let the sorrowing crowd about it grow, 

And let the mournful martial music flow. 

The last great Englishman is low. 

Another passage, from The Merchant of Venice, is equally 
interesting and instructive. Shylock says : 

Yet his means are in supposition ; he hath an argosy bound to 
Tripolis, another to the Indies; I understand moreover upon the 
Rialto, he hath a third to Mexico, a fourth for England ; and other 
ventures he hath, squandered abroad. 

Seven students out of ten read the last sentence as if "hath 
squandered" were the verb. The comma after "hath" shows 
this to be a mistake, and, moreover, denotes a shade of mean- 
ing that is very significant of Shylock 's character. 

The object in giving these illustrations has been to free 
the student from a very common misconception that the group 



THE CRITERION OF TIME 31 

is determined by the punctuation mark, and, further, to draw 
his attention to the necessity of scanning the punctuation with 
the utmost care. As a rule, the words are in themselves 
sufficient index of the author's meaning; but, as in the cases 
cited, there are times when carelessness regarding punctuation 
leads to serious and ridiculous misunderstanding. The 
punctuation will make the sense clear wherever such help is 
necessary; but after that, as far as grouping is concerned, the 
student need give it no further attention. In order to impress 
the fact that gi'ouping and punctuation ai'e independent of 
each other, the following examples should be thoughtfully 
considered and then read aloud : 

So every bondman in his own hand bears 
The power to cancel his captivity. 

And as the greatest only are. 
In his simplicity sublime. 

Note that "only" modifies "greatest," and hence should 
be separated from "are." If the sentence were prose, it 
would read, "And as only the greatest are," in which case 
there would be no difficulty in the reading. As it is, we must 
bring out the relation by careful grouping. 

The first object of a free people is the preservation of their 
liberty ; and liberty is only to be preserved by maintaining consti- 
tutional restraints and just divisions of political power. 

Soon after William H. Harrison's nomination, a writer in one of 
the leading administration papers spoke of his "log cabin" and his 
use of "hard cider," by way of sneer and reproach. . . . 

It did not happen to me to be bom in a log cabin, but my elder 
brothers and sisters were born in a log cabin, raised amid the 
snowdrifts of New Hampshire, at a period so early that, when the 
smoke rose from its rude chimney and curled over the frozen hills, 



32 BEADING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

there was no similar evidence of a white man's habitation between 
it and the settlements on the rivers of Canada. 

The following example is an excellent one to illustrate the 
necessity of paying caref nl attention to grouping : 

Of Man's first disobedience, and the fruit 
Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste 
Brought death into the world, and all our woe, 
With loss of Eden, till one greater Man 
Restore us, and regain the blissful seat. 
Sing, Heavenly Muse, that on the secret top 
Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire 
That shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed, 
In'the beginning how the Heav'ns and Earth 
Eose out of Chaos. 

It is to be remarked that the spirit did not teach the shep- 
herd "in the beginning," but "how the Heav'ns and Earth 
rose" in the beginning, "out of Chaos." If we turn this 
last sentence into prose, it will assist us in getting the poet's 
meaning and consequently in giving the correct rendition. 

THE PAUSE AS AK EXPEESSIVE ELEMENT 

In the study of grouping, the student noticed that the 
groups were separated by pauses of varying duration. It may 
be said that the pauses were the results of the grouping rather 
than that the grouping was the result of the pauses. In other 
words, the pause could hardly be called expressive. 

We are now to study the pause as an expressive element. 
No definite rule can be laid down for pausing; that is deter- 
mined, to a large extent, by the temperament, the nature of the 
thought, and the occasion. It must be borne in mind, how- 
ever, that the pause is not mere silence. A very little obser- 
vation will show us that while the voice ceases, the thought 



THE CRITERION OF TIME 33 

continues to manifest itself in pantomimic expression. What 
is it, then, that determines the pause? The answer has a 
twofold aspect. First, pausing is an instinctive process, and 
comes as the result of certain psychological processes. We 
think in ideas, not in individual words, and these ideas are 
separated in our minds by pauses of varying length. We do 
not stop to consider whether or no we shall pause between the 
phrases of a sentence; the pause, as has been stated, comes 
instinctively, and is a manifestation of psycho-psychological 
action. In the second place, the pause is made as the result, 
to a greater or less degree, of collateral thinking. In other 
words, any given idea may call up another train of thought, 
with which the mind may engage itself, and such engagement 
would find actual expression in the pause. It must be 
remembered that the collateral thinking may take the mind 
backward or forward. According to the amount of this col- 
lateral thinking will be the diu-ation of the pause. 

An extract from the play of Jidms Caesar will illustrate 
this point. In the fifth act, Brutus and Cassius have taken 
their "everlasting farewell," and Brutus ends the interview 
with these words : 

Why then, lead on. — O, that a man might know 
The end of this day's business, ere it come! 
But it sufficeth, that the day will end, 
And then the end is known. 

The first four words of this speech are addi'essed to the 
onlookers. The word "on" takes the mind of the thoughtful 
and considerate leader to the battlefield where the fate of 
Eome is to be decided. He perceives that the future of his 
beloved city hangs trembling in the balance. The appearance 
on the preceding night of the ghost of Caesar, warning him 
that it will see him at Philippi, fills Brutus with apprehension. 



34 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

And then, how many of his followers, now so ready to do bat- 
tle under his standard, will, ere night, lie cold in death upon 
the bloody field! All this and more passes through his 
mind, and his solicitude and apprehension manifest themselves 
in his features and in his body. Then even the stoical Brutus 
cannot repress his anxiety, which we note in the words, "0, 
that a man might know." This extract, therefore, well illus- 
trates what was said above, — that the pause, as we here con- 
sider it, is not mere silence, but cessation of voice while the 
expression continues in the body. In the second place, it is 
plain that the collateral thinking determines the length of the 
pause. 

Another element that determines the duration of the pause 
is the distance apart of the thoughts separated by the pause. 
Let us illustrate this : 

If this law were put upon our statute books there would not 
be, five years from to-day, a dissenting voice raised against it from 
the Atlantic to the Pacific. 

Let it not be understood that there are no occasions when the 
phrase "from the Atlantic to the Pacific" would not be uttered 
with scarcely any pause after Atlantic. This phrase, and 
others like it, may have become a mere commonplace to 
describe extent ; but in such a passage as the above, where the 
speaker is hyperbolically expressive, he no doubt intends to 
convey the idea that not one objection would be heard even in 
all the three thousand miles between the oceans. If the stu- 
dent will stop for a moment to analyze his own consciousness 
while uttering this sentence, he will scarcely fail to see the 
vast extent of territory separating the two oceans. 

Many wi'iters on the subject have given emotion as a 
reason for the pause. Strictly speaking, however, emotion, 
as distinct from thinking, seldom or never is the cause of the 



THE CRITERION OF TIME 35 

pause, unless it completely choke the utterance. In the 
example quoted above from Julius Caesar there is no doubt 
considerable emotion during the pause; but it is the thought, 
and not the emotion arising out of it, that leads to the silence. 
The following excerpt is from the speech of Satan in 
Paradise Lost. Satan has been cursing his lot and the 
author of his punishment. Finally, his judgment tells him 
that he himself, and not God, is responsible for the downfall. 
The pauses, indicated by the vertical lines, are suggestive of 
the proper rendition. Of course, the pauses vary in duration 
from the briefest cessation of voice to pauses of considerable 
length : 

Nay, I curs'd be thou; | since against his ] thy will 

Chose freely | what it now | so justly rues. 

Me I miserable ! which way shall I fly 

Infinite wrath, | and infinite despair? | 

Which way I fly | is Hell ; 1 myself | am Hell ; 

And in the lowest deep | a lower deep | 

Still threat 'ning to devour me | opens wide | 

To which the Hell I suffer | seems a Heav'n. 

But say I could repent | and could obtain | 

By act of grace | my former state, | how soon 

Would height | recall high thoughts, | how soon unsay | 

"What feign' d submission | swore. 

This I knows my punisher ; therefore | as far 

From granting | he, as I [ from begging | peace. 

The student should practice the following examples until he 
perceives clearly the force of the preceding principles. The 
group is the thought unit, and the proper rendition of the 
sentence depends upon our grasp of the units that compose it. 
Hence, a conscientious study of the phrasing will lead not 
only to careful grouping, but to a grasp of the thought in its 
entirety that cannot fail to affect for good the reading of the 
whole selection : 



36 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

. . . . and there were drawn 
Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women 
Transformed with their fear, who swore they saw 
Men all in fire walk up and down the streets. 

He were no lion, were not Romans hinds. 

Those that with haste will make a mighty fire 
Begin it with weak straws. 

A piece of work that will make sick men whole. 

Danger knows full well 
That Caesar is more dangerous than he. 
We are two lions litter' d in one day. 
And I the elder and more terrible. 

No more in soldier fashion will he greet 
With lifted hand the gazer in the street. 

Before the starry threshold of Jove's court 
My mansion is, where those immortal shapes 
Of bright aerial spirits lived inspher'd 
In regions mild of calm and serene air. 

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer 
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, 
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, 
And by opposing end them? 

And the sunset paled and warmed once more 
With a softer, tenderer afterglow'; 

In the east was moonrise with boats off-shore ; 
And sails in the distance drifting slow. 

O may I join the choir invisible 

Of those immortal dead who live again 

In the minds made better by their presence : 



THE CRITERION OF TIME 37 

Moses, who spake with God as with his friend, 
And ruled his people with the twofold power 
Of wisdom that can dare and still be meek, 
Was writing his last word, the sacred name 
Unutterable of that Eternal Will 
Which was and is and evermore shall be. 

We stood far off and saw the angels lift 
His corpse aloft until they seemed a star 
That burnt itself away within the sky. 

Messer Bernado del Nero was as inexorable as Romola had 
expected in his advice that the marriage should be deferred till 
Easter, and in this matter Bardo was entirely under the ascen- 
dency of his sagacious and practical friend. Nevertheless, Ber- 
nado himself, though he was as far as ever from any susceptibility 
to the personal fascination in Tito which was felt by others, could 
not altogether resist that argument of success which is always 
powerful with men of the world. 

Some of the softening effects of advancing age have struck me 
very much in what I have heard or seen here and elsewhere. I 
just now si3oke of the sweetening process that authors undergo. 
Do you know that in the gradual passage from maturity to help- 
lessness the harshest characters sometimes have a period in which 
they are gentle and placid as young children? I have heard it said, 
but I cannot be sponsor for its truth, that the famous chieftain, 
Lochiel, was rocked in a cradle like a baby, in his old age. An old 
man, whose studies had been of the severest scholastic kind, used to 
love to hear little nursery stories read over and over to him. 
One who saw the Duke of Wellington in his last years describes 
him as very gentle in his aspect and demeanor. I remember a 
person of singular Ij^ stern and lofty bearing who became remarkably 
gracious and easy in all his ways in the later period of his life. 

Whatever Lionel had said to his wife that evening she had 
found something to say to him : that Laura could see though not 
so much from any change in the simple expression of his little red 
face and in the vain bustle of his existence as from the grand 
manner in which Selina nov\^ carried herself. She was "smarter" 



38 EEADING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

than ever and her waist was smaller and her back straighter and 
the fall of her shoulders finer; her long eyes were more oddly 
charming and the extreme detachment of her elbows from her sides 
conduced still more to the exhibition of her beautiful arms. 

At the moment when death so suddenly stayed his course the 
greatness of Henry the Fifth had reached its highest point. He 
had won the Church by his orthodoxy, the nobles by his warlike 
prowess, the whole people by his revival of the glories of Crecy and 
Poitiers. In France his cool policy had transformed him from a 
foreign conqueror into a legal heir to the crown; his title of 
Regent and of successor to the throne rested on the formal recog- 
nition of the estates of the realm; and his progress to the very 
moment of his death promised a speedy mastery of the whole 
country. But the glory of Agincourt and the genius of Henry the 
Fifth hardly veiled at the close of his reign the weakness and humili- 
ation of the Crown when the succession passed to his infant son. 



PEDAGOGICAL ASPECTS 

From what has been stated, it must be clear that drills in 
fast time or slow time are useless and fraught with much 
danger of affectation. Any of us can read slowly or rapidly ; 
that is merely a matter of mechanics. The object to be 
attained is the development of such power of discrimination 
in the child that the value of each phrase and sentence shall 
be carefully determined; and then the degree of extent, depth, 
sublimity or grandeur of the thought will determine the rate 
of movement. Training in Time for its own sake is valueless. 
From the very beginning, the teacher must use Time as a test, 
as a standard of criticism ; and all corrections must be made 
with a clear perception on the part of the teacher of the 
psychology of Time. If a child read too rapidly, it is because 
his mind is not sufficiently occupied witli the thought ; if he 
read too slowly, it is because he does not get the words ; or 
because he is temperamentally slow ; or because, and this is the 



THE CRITERION OF TIME 39 

most likely explanation, lie is making too much of a small 
idea. 

The only excuse for drills in Time is when a pupil reads 
everything at about the same rate. In such a case, in the 
upper grades, the teacher may choose certain selections for the 
proper expression of which approximately fast or slow move- 
ment, as the case may be, would be required. Then let the 
teacher, through careful analysis and question, lead the child to 
understand the passages as the teacher understands them, and 
the proper rate of utterance will follow. This process may seem 
slow ; but let us bear in mind that we are dealing with funda- 
mental principles of thinking, and too much time cannot be 
spent in building our foundations strong and solid. Further- 
more, if the rate of utterance is not the instinctive manifes- 
tation of the child's thought measurement, it is nothing at all. 
To tell him to read fast or slowly is but to make him affected, 
and incidentally, even if unconsciously, to impress upon him 
that reading is a matter of mechanics and not of thought - 
getting and thought -giving. 

In order to teach grouping, various rules have been laid 
down. Pupils have committed a long list of these without 
much practical benefit. A few of these rules ai'e given to show 
the mechanical natm-e of such a method of teaching. "In 
every direct period, the principal pause comes at that part 
where the sense begins to form, or the expectation excited by 
the fii'st member begins to be answered." Or, "A loose sen- 
tence requhes a longer pause between its fii'st member (usually 
a period direct or inverted), and the additional member which 
does not modify it." And, again, ""Where the adjective 
follows the substantive or noun it modifies, and has modifiers 
of its own, constituting a descriptive phrase, it should be 
separated from its noun by a short pause." Xow, it may be 
quite true that these rules are valid, but is it not clear that the 



40 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

pedagogy which makes use of them in the earlier stages ap- 
proaches the subject from the wi'ong side? It lays stress upon 
the objective rather than upon the subjectiye aspect. 

The pause should never be taught merely as pause. If the 
principles herein discussed have any meaning, they must 
surely teach us that the pause must come spontaneously. 
The pedagogic point to be remembered is that the pupil must 
be trained to extract the thought piece by piece, and to 
express it. The pause will then appear without conscious- 
ness. The attempt to teach pauses as such must result in 
mechanical silences, during which the face of the pupil 
is a perfect blank, the indubitable sign of mental blankness. 

It should certainly now be clear that it is wrong to 
draw the attention of the pupil to the pause as such, and 
that it is useless and often misleading to give him at the 
beginning rules of pausing. We must approach the printed 
page in the spirit with which we approach one who is speak- 
ing to us, and, having gi-asped the meaning, repeat the ideas. 
Then the pauses will come as the unconscious expression of 
certain definite mental action. 

Perhaps there is no better way of bringing home to the 
reader the psychological action lying behind grouping and 
pausing than by calling his attention to a chapter from a brief 
but most attractive work by Ernest Legouve, of the Conserva- 
toire Franoaise: 

To conclude what we have to say on the first portion of our sub- 
ject, the material part of reading, we must now occupy ourselves a 
little with what may be called punctuation. 

The tongue punctuates as well as the pen. 

One day, Samson, sitting at his desk, sees himself approached by 
a young man apparently x>retty well satisfied with himself. 

"You wish to take reading lessons, sir?" 

' 'Yes, Monsiour Samson. ' ' 

"Have you had some practice in reading aloud?" 



THE CRITEEION OF TIME 41 

"O yes, Monsieur Samson, I have often recited whole passages 
from Corneille and Moliere. ' ' 

"In public?" 

"Yes, Monsieur Samson. " 

"With success?" 

"Well, 5^es, Monsieur, I think I may flatter myself that far." 

"Take up that book, j)lease. It is Fontaine's Fables. Open it 
at the Oak and the Reed. Let me hear you read a line or t\vo. " 

The pupil begins : 

"The Oak one day, said to the Eeed " 

"That's enough, sir! You don't know anything about reading!" 

"It is because I don't know much, Monsieur Samson," replies 
the j)upil, a little nettled, "it is precisely because I don't know 
much that I've come to you for lessons. But I don't exactly com- 
prehend how from my manner of reading a single verse " 

"Read the line again, sir." 

He reads it again : 

"The Oak one day, said to the Reed " 

"There! You can't read! I told you so!" 

"But " 

"But," interrupts Samson, cold and dry, "but why do you 
join the adverb to the noun rather than to the verb? What kind 
of an Oak is an Oak one day? No kind at all! There is no such 
tree! Why, then, do you say: the Oak one day, said to the Reed? 
This is the way it should go: the Oak {comma) one day said to the 
Reed. You understand, of course?" 

"Certainly I do," replies the other, a nev*^ light breaking on 
him. ' ' It seems as if there should be an invisible comma after Oak ! ' ' 

"You are right, sir," continues the master. "Every passage 
has a double set of xDunctuation marks, one visible, the other 
invisible; one is the printer's work, the other the reader's." 

"The reader's? Does the reader also punctuate?" 

Certainly he does, quite indej)endently too of the printer's 
points, though it must be acknowledged that sometimes both coin- 
cide. By a certain cadenced silence the reader marks his period ; 
by a half silence, his comma; by a certain accent, an interroga- 
tion ; by a certain tone, an exclamation. And I must assure you 
that it is exclusively on the skillful distribution of these insensible 
points that not only the interest of the story, but actually its 
clearness, its comprehensibility, altogether depends. ' ' 



CHAPTEE II 



THE CEITEEIOK OF PITCH 



The second criterion is that of Pitch. By Pitch is meant 
everything that has to do with the acuteness or gravity of the 
tone, — in other words, with keys, melodies, inflections and 
modulations. Again we are indebted to Professor Eaymond 
for a clear statement regarding this most subtle of all the 
elements of expression. His words are as follows: "The 
melody of the movement taken by the voice represents, there- 
fore, like the melody in music, the mind''s motive^ — indicates 
its purpose in using the particular phraseology to which the 
melody is applied; and because pitch, through the kinds of 
inflections and melody chosen, reveals the motives, we shall 
find that the use of this element in ordinary conversation is 
constantly causing precisely the same phraseology to express, 
entirely opposite meanings." Before proceeding further, 
it may be v/ell to illustrate this principle, in order that the 
reader may follow more clearly the subsequent discussion. 

Let us suppose some one to ask the question, "Do you 
think Mr. Jones is a good teacher?" and that the reply is 
given, "Oh, yes," with a melody that virtually says, "Oh, I 
suppose so ; he is not a very great teacher ; in fact, there are 
many things about his teaching that might be a great deal 
better, but he manages to get along." Now, all of this para- 
phrase, which reveals the motive, is manifested in the signifi- 
cant melody upon the two words, "Oh, yes." Let us suppose 
further that a few days later Mr. Jones comes to us and calls 
us to account for speaking disi^aragingly of his teaching. 
"What, "we reply, "we say an5^thing against your teaching! 

42 



THE CRITERION OF PITCH 43 

Why, wlien Smith, asked us whether we considered you a 
good teacher, we said in the most unequivocal manner, 'Oh, 
yes' ! " And this time we utter the words with strong, posi- 
tive assert iveness. The words in both cases are the same, but 
the different melodies indicate entirely opposite motives behind 
the words. 

Read aloud such a sentence as, "John rode to the park last 
Christmas," changing the meaning by transferring the signifi- 
cant inflection successively to all the imjoortanfc words, thus : 

John rode to the park last Christmas. 

John rode to the park last Christmas. 

John rode to the j:?«?'^' last Christmas, etc. 
Does it not apjiear that, with each change in the motive, 
the melody changes? 

We often heai* it said that in such cases as the last we have 
been changing the emphasis. This is true. But emphasis is 
a broad term, and one often confused with force. As a matter 
of fact, the changes in the successive readings were changes of 
melody due in every case to changes of motive. 

Again, "When we are in our graves om^ childi'en will honor 
it. They will celebrate it with thanksgiving, with festivities, 
with bonfires, with joy." The inflections on the last four 
nouns would probably be falling. Why ? Because each would 
be held to be of sufficient importance to be emphasized by 
itself, and cut off from the others. To read them with rising 
inflections would be to manifest the fact that the mind was 
thinking of them in the aggi'egate. Once again, the melody 
shows the motive. 

The melody is an indubitable sign of the discriminative 
ability of the reader. It is the severest test of his power to 
perceive sense, or logical, relations. So important a featm-e 
of the work is this tliat it appears necessary to emphasize it 
and to illustrate it in many ways. 



44 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Bassanio desires to show his love for Antonio. He says : 

Antonio, I am married to a wife, 
Which is as dear to me as life itself; 
But life itself, my wife, and all the world. 
Are not with me esteem' d above thy life: 
I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all 
Here to this devil, to deliver you. 

It is evident that he does not wish to assert that he is mar- 
ried, nor that he is married to a wife ; but that he is married 
to a wife as dear as life itself. And yet many a pupil reads the 
passage as if Bassanio were desirous of insisting upon the fact 
that he is married to a wife. Not a very remarkable con- 
dition of affairs, truly. It is no argument to say that the 
comma after "wife" indicates the necessity of a rising inflec- 
tion on that word. As has been already intimated, and as will 
be later developed, the punctuation has nothing to do with 
the inflection. 

Meanwhile King Robert yielded to his fate, 
Sullen and silent and disconsolate. 
Dressed in the motley garb that Jesters wear, 
With look bewildered, and a vacant stare, 
Close shaven above the ears, as monks are shorn. 
By courtiers mocked, by pages laughed to scorn, 
His only friend the ape, his only food 
What others left, — he still was unsubdued. 

In the preceding passage, note that from the third line to 
the clause at the end of the sentence the mind is glancing for- 
ward, and this fact will be evident in the rising inflection at 
the end of every important statement. Notice, further, that 
all of these statements will be uttered in what is virtually the 
same melody. The reason for this is that they are co-ordi- 
nate, and having the same motive behind them will be read 
with the same melody. 



THE CRITERION OF PITCH 45 

Observe the different melodies in the following sentences, 
and how the difference manifests the varying motive : 

I said ^"'' *^'°' t^^ee, four, five. 
I said one. ^^^''^' ^^^ee, four, five. 
I said one, two, ^^^'ee, four, five, 
I said one, two, three, •^^^^^. five. 
I said one, two, three, four, •^^'^• 

When Mark Antony uses the ^Dhrase, "honorable men," in 
the beginning of his oration, there can be no donbt that he 
avoids even the slightest indication of sarcasm in his voice. 
Whatever his ultimate purpose may be, his immediate inten- 
tion is to conciliate the mob. This purpose, his motive, is 
shown by the unequivocal melody with which he says: 

Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest, — 
For Brutus is an Jionorable man, 
So are they all, all honorable men, — 
Come I to speak on Caesar's fiuieral. 

It is hardly necessary to consider this aspect farther. Let 
us, however, examine the subject in detail. The first consider- 
ation is that of Key. Key has been defined as "the fundamental 
tone of a movement to which its modulations are referred, and 
with which it generally begins and ends ; keynote. " (Webster.) 
Perhaps the meaning of the current phrases "high key" and 
*'low key" will make the definition clear. When we say of 
one that he speaks in a high key, we should be understood as 
meaning that his pitch is prevailingly high; and that the 



46 EEADING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

reverse is true when we say of one that he speaks in a low 
key. While it is true that the key differs in individuals, yet 
experience shows that within a note or two we all use the same 
keys in expressing the same states of minds. The question 
for us is, What determines the key? It can be set down as a 
fixed j)rinciple that controlled mental states are expressed in 
the low keys, while the high keys are the manifestation of 
the less controlled mental conditions.* This principle will be 
more readily understood when we consider the states finding 
expression in low or high key in music. We should hardly 
awaken much enthusiasm by playing Yankee Doodle in a 
key an octave below that in which it is written ; nor should 
we catch the subtle meaning of Chopin's Funeral March if 
it were played in a key an octave higher than the original key. 
Let the reader study the spirit of the following extracts, and 
read them aloud. He will find in such practice the best proof 
of the truth of the principle we are here discussing : 

Over his keys the musing organist, 

Beginning doubtfully and far away, 
First lets his fingers wander as they list, 

And builds a bridge from Dreamland for his lay : 
Then, as the touch of his loved instrument 

Gives hope and fervor, nearer draws his theme, 
First guessed by faint auroral flushes sent 

Along the wavering vista of his dream. 

— r/te Vision of Sir Laimfal. Lowell. 



* In describing what is small, delicate, nice, we often note the ten- 
dency to use a rather hig-h key. This is no doubt due to the tension 
that results from unconscious imitation. The voice is to a certain 
extent squeezed in endeavoring to express the smallness of the idea, 
with the result that the key is raised. Note how the child's key rises 
when he asks for a " leetle, teeny bit." 



THE CRITERION OF PITCH 47 

It is but a legend, I know, — 
A fable, a phantom, a show. 

Of the ancient Rabbinical lore ; 
Yet the old mediaeval tradition, 
The beautiful, strange superstition, 

But haunts me and holds me the more. 

When I look from my window at night, 
And the welkin above is all white, 

All throbbing and panting with stars, 
Among them majestic is standing 
Sandalphon the angel, expanding 

His pinions in nebulous bars. 

And the legend, I feel, is a part 

Of the hunger and thirst of the heart, 

The frenzy and fire of the brain. 
That grasps at the fruitage forbidden. 
The golden pomegranates of Eden, 

To quiet its fever and j)ain. 

— Sandalphon. Longfellow. 

I had a dream, which was not all a dream. 

The bright sun was extinguished ; and the stars 

Did wander darkling in the eternal space, 

Rayless, and pathless ; and the icy earth 

Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air ; 

Morn came, and went, — and came, and brought no day. 

The world was void ; 
The populous and the powerful was a lump, — 
Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless, — 
A lump of death — a chaos of hard clay. 
The rivers, lakes, and ocean, all stood still ; 
And nothing stirred within their silent depths : 
Ships, sailorless, lay rotting on the sea ; 
And their masts fell down piecemeal : as they dropped, 
They slept on the abyss w^ithout a surge ; — 
The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,- 
The moon, their mistress, had expired before ; 



48 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

The winds were withered in the stagnant air ; 
And the clouds perished : Darkness had no need 
Of aid from them, She — was the universe. 

— Darkness. Byron. 

A fool, a fool! — I met a fool i' th' forest, 

A motley fool ; — a miserable world ! — 

As I do live by food, I met a fool ; 

Who laid him down, and bask'd him in the sun, 

And rail'd on lady Fortune in good terms, 

In good set terms, — and yet a motley fool. 

"Good morrow, fool," quoth I; "No, sir," quoth he, 

"Call me not fool, till heav'n hath sent me fortune;" 

And then he drew a dial from his poke : 

And looking on it with lack-lustre eye. 

Says, very wisely, "It is ten o'clock; 

Thus may we see," quoth he, "how the world wags; 

'Tis but an hour ago, since it was nine; 

And after one hour more 'twill be eleven ; 

And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, 

And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot, 

And thereby hangs a tale." When I did hear 

The motley fool thus moral on the time, 

My lungs began to crow like chanticleer. 

That fools should be so deep contemplative. 

And I did laugh, sans intermission 

An hour by his dial. O noble fool ! 

A worthy fool ! Motley's the only wear. 

— As You Like It, Act ii., Sc. 7. 

Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee 
Jest, and youthful jollity. 
Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles. 
Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, 
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, 
And love to dwell in dimple sleek ; 
Come, and trip it as ye go. 
On the light fantastic toe. 

— L' Allegro. Milton. 



THE CRITERION OF PITCH 49 

Where sweeps round the mountains 

The cloud on the gale, 
And streams from their fountains 

Leap into the vale, — 
Like frighted deer leap when 

The storm with his pack 
Rides over the steep in 
The wild torrent's track, — 
Even there my free home is ; 

There watch I the flocks 
Wander white as the foam is 

In stairways of rocks. 
Secure in the gorge there 

In freedom we sing, 
And laugh at King George, where 
The eagle is king. 

—Sojig. T. B. Read. 

The reason for low pitch or high pitch is psycho-physiolog- 
ical. Nerve tension means muscular tension, and, since the 
muscles controlling the vocal chords are subject to the same 
laws as the other muscles, the greater the tension the 
higher the pitch. Hence, since what we have called the con- 
trolled states are accompanied by relatively low muscular ten- 
sion, it necessarily follows that tbey will be expressed in 
relatively low keys. 

The desire to communicate thought to another has a 
tendency to raise the key. To illustrate : if we are addressing 
an audience in a small room, we shall speak in a moderately 
low key. If the auditorium is large, the key will be higher. 
If we are speaking in the open air, the chances are that we 
shall use a key considerably above that of ordinary conversa- 
tion. On the other hand, when one is communing with 
himself, the absence of desire to reach others removes the 
tension, and in consequence the pitch is low. It is well to 
bear in mind that all soliloquies are not read in low key. 



50 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Soliloquies are often full of uncontrolled passion, in which 
case the principle first laid down would apply, and the pitch 
would be high, according to the degree of tension. What has 
been said in this paragraph we may sum up in a few words : 
those states in which there is strong desire to communicate 
(objective states) are manifested in high key; while the 
introspective (subjective) states find expression in the lower 
keys. Henry V., inciting his soldiers to attack the enemy's 
fortifications, says: 

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more ; 

Or close the wall up with our English dead ! 

In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man, 

As modest stillness, and humility : 

But when the blast of war blows in our ears, 

Then imitate the action of the tiger ; 

Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood. 

Disguise fair nature with hard-favor' d rage: 

Then lend the eye a terrible aspect ; 

Let it pry through the portage of the head, 

Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it. 

As fearfully as doth a galled rock 

O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, 

Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean. 

Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostril wide; 

Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit 

To his full height ! — On, on, you noblest English, 

Whose blood is f et from fathers of war-proof ! — 



The game's afoot; 
Follow your spirit : and, upon this charge, 
Cry — God for Harry ! England ! and Saint George ! 

— Henry V., Act iii., Sc. 1. 

The tension of the speaker is evidently high, owing to the 
exhilaration of the moment^ and to the desire to project his 



THE CRITERION OF PITCH 51 

voice (of which he may be unconscious), and consequently the 
key will be high. It is the joy of the English people that 
Tennyson voices in his Welcome to Alexandra. Again the 
key is relatively high. 

Sea-kings' daughter from over the sea, Alexandra! 

Saxon and Norman and Dane are we, 

But all of us Danes in our welcome of thee, Alexandra ! 

Welcome her, thunders of fort and of fleet ! 
Welcome her, thundering cheer of the street ! 
Welcome her, all things youthful and sweet. 
Scatter the blossoms under her feet ! 
Break, happy land, into earlier flowers ! 
Make music, O bird, in the new-budded bowers ! 
Blazon your mottoes of blessing and prayer ! 
Welcome her, welcome her, all that is ours ! 
Warble, O bugle, and trumpet, blare ! 
Flags, flutter out upon turrets and towers ! 
Flames, on the windy headland flare ! 
Utter your jubilee, steeple and spire! 
Clash, ye bells, in the merry March air ! 
Flash, ye cities, in rivers of fire ! 
Rush to the roof, sudden rocket, and higher 
Melt into stars for the land's desire ! 
Roll and rejoice, jubilant voice. 
Roll as a ground-swell dashed on the strand. 
Roar as the sea when it welcomes the land, 
And welcome her, welcome the land's desire, 
The sea-kings' daughter as happy as fair. 
Blissful bride of a blissful heir. 
Bride of the heir of the kings of the sea. 
O joy to the people and joy to the throne, 
Come to us, love us, and make us your own ; 
For Saxon or Dane or Norman we. 
Teuton or Celt, or whatever we be. 

We are each all Dane in oiu* welcome of thee, Alexandra ! 

— Welcome to Alexandra. Tennyson. 

Hamlet's soliloquy will find expression in moderately low 



52 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

key when one grasps the idea that Hamlet is meditating 

upon : 

To be, or not to be, — that is the question; 

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer 

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, 

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, 

And by opposing end them? To die, — to sleep, — 

No more ; and by a sleep to say we end 

The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks 

That flesh is heir to, — 'tis a consummation 

Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, — to sleep; — 

To sleep ! perchance to dream ! — ay, there's the rub ; 

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come 

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil. 

Must give us pause : there's the respect 

That makes calamity of so long life ; 

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, 

Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely. 

The pangs of disprized love, the law's delay. 

The insolence of office, and the spurns 

That patient merit of th' unworthy takes, 

When be himself might his quietus made 

With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear, 

To grunt and sweat under a weary life. 

But that the dread of something after death, — 

The undiscover'd country from whose bourn 

No traveler returns, — puzzles the will. 

And makes us rather bear those ills we have 

Than fly to others that we know not of? 

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all ; 

And thus the native hue of resolution 

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought; 

And enterprises of great pith and moment 

With this regard their currents turn awry, 

And lose the name of action, 

— Hamlet, Act iii., Sc. 1. 

The following lines are delivered by Hamlet when he 
appreciates the fact that while his father's blood cries out for 



THE CRITERION OF PITCH 53 

vengeance he stands idle, beset by doubts and fears. The 
speech is a soliloqny, but it would be rendered in a moderately 
high pitch owing to the mental tension of the speaker : 

O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I ! 

Is it not monstrous, that this i)layer here, 

But in a fiction, in a dream of passion. 

Could force his soul so to his own conceit. 

That from her working ail his visage wann'd; 

Tears in his eyes, distraction in 's aspect, 

A broken voice, and his whole function suiting 

With forms to his conceit? and ail for nothing ! 

For Hecuba ! 

What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, 

That he should weep for her? What would he do, 

Had he the motive and the cue for passion 

That I have? He would drown the stage with tears. 

And cleave the general ear vrith horrid speech ; 

Make mad the guilty, and appal the free, 

Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed 

The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I, 

A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak. 

Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause. 

And can say nothing ; no, not for a king 

Upon whose property and most dear life 

A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward? 

Who calls me villain? breaks my pate across? 

Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face? 

Tweaks me by th' nose? gives me the lie i' the throat. 

As deep as to the lungs? who does me this? 

Ha! 

'S wounds, I should take it ; for it cannot be 

But I am pigeon-liver' d, and lack gall 

To make oppression bitter ; or, ere this, 

I should have fatted all the region kites 

With this slave's olfal. Bloody, bawdy villain! 

Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain! 

O vengeance! 

— Hamlet, Act ii. , Sc. 3. 



54 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

The principle just discussed, — ^that key depends on fhe 
degree of tension, first mental, then physical, — is of very wide 
application. As a matter of fact, it explains the whole sub- 
ject of melody. In passing from a controlled to a less con- 
trolled state, the voice rises, and vice versa. To illustrate: 
Brutus says to Cassius, "You yourself are much condemned 
to have an itching palm"; and Cassius replies, "I an itching 
palm!" On the word "I" the voice of Cassius strikes upward 
through, perhaps, an octave of the scale, and this inflection 
manifests the increasing tension of Cassius' mind as he utters 
the exclamation. It is almost impossible to restrain the tension 
of throat and hand while reading the passage. Note how the 
muscular tension increases while one is speaking the words of 
Cassius. Bearing in mind what has been said of the relation 
of bodily tension to pitch, the explanation of Cas&ius' inflec- 
tion will not be far to seek. Again, Brutus says, *'The name 
of Cassius honors this corruption, and chastisement doth 
therefore hide his head." Cassius replies in one word, 
*' Chastisement." There are two interpretations of this 
word: one, that Cassius replies, as if questioning, "Do you 
dare say this to me?" and the other, that, astounded at the 
bluntness of Brutus 's speech, Cassius replies, speaking to him- 
self, "He dared speak of chastisement to me!" In the first 
case the inflection would be rising, denoting the increase of 
tension ; in the second case, the inflection would be falling, 
marking a gradual decrease of tension. Let the reader 
experiment on this example, and observe how the mental ten- 
sion corresponds with the physical tension. 

The melody in which any phrase or sentence is given 
consists of a series of waves, the crests of which mark the 
maximum of tension. It is a difficult matter to indicate 
speech melody, but it is hoped the following illustrations will 
be at least sufficiently suggestive to make clear the psychology 



THE CRITERION OF PITCH 55 

of melody. In the following sentence there is a gradual 
ascent of the voice, since the intensity increases from the first 
word to the end. 



<§ r. ^ -^ 



''S?^ 

^ 






)C ,^^ -"C 



.^ A 5 



^ £- ^^ 



^ ^^ 



6 



Again, we have a very similar melody in this : 

Would you wrest the wreath of fame 
From the hand of fate? 

The descending melody, denoting that the maximum of ten- 
sion is at the beginning of the sentence, is found in the following : 
All 



^^ all 


*% 


all , 


*'Dead" marks the crest 


of the 


wave of tension in the 


following. Observe how the 


melody rises to that word and 


descends after it : 






dead, 




So 


pleasure 
strike 
cold 




sadness 
breathes 
from 
out 


dungeons 




the 


from 




mould 


breathed 




where 
Burns 


vapors 

As 




is 
laid. 



56 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

For those wlio have no musical ear, it may be somewhat 
difficult to catch these speech melodies. But, fortunately, in 
most cases, an acute musical ear is not necessary. Melody 
takes care of itself. When we have determined the principal 
word in each phrase, the melody will rise or fall from that 
without any effort on our part. And furthermore, even those 
without an ear for tune recognize instinctively the appropriate- 
ness of a given melody which they may be unable to analyze in 
detail. ISTevertheless, the ability to analyze speech tunes is a 
great aid to the teacher ; and it is to be hoped that the fore- 
going explanation will materially assist him in his work of 
developing the logical acumen of his class. 

Melody is made up of skips and inflections. TKe inflection 
needs no definition ; the skip is simply a discreet passage from 
one note to another. As the violinist draws his bow over the 
string and simultaneously runs his finger up or down the 
string, we have the analogy of the inflection. The pianist 
cannot do more than skip from one note to another, although 
there is an approximation to the glide, or inflection, in legato 
playing. The skip is found in such a sentence as this : 

tus ue tors? 

Give a with 

Bru his ces 

stat an 

The psychology of the skip is precisely that of the inflec- 
tion, i. e., transition from less to more tension, or the reverse. 
In such an exclamation as, "Thou tattered upstart!" it is 
next to impossible to use the wide rising inflection that would 
be natural on the first syllable of "upstart," owing to the 
nature of the syllable. Hence, there would be a skip be- 
tween "up" and "start." But let it be carefully observed 
that, including the skip, the voice traverses exactly the in- 



THE CRITERION OF PITCH 57 

terval it would have passed through, had it been possible to 
use one inflection, as, for instance, on "boy" in "Thou tat- 
tered boy!" Our attention may now be turned to inflections. 

Inflections are not a matter of accident, nor are they a 
conventional device. Their meaning is definite and fixed, 
and their force instinctively recognized by all. Although we 
do not stop to analyze them, they convey to all alike a distinct 
shade of thought. And further, the same shade of thought 
will always find expression through the same inflections. We 
must bear in mind that it is not claimed that all will be moved 
in the same way by the same stimulus, nor that all will take 
the same meaning from a given passage. What is claimed is, 
that the same purpose will find expression, with all, in funda- 
mentally the same melody (of which inflections form the 
larger part). If this were not so, how should we understand 
one another? We discern a speaker's purpose quite as much 
in his melody as in his words. For example, if one were to ask, 
"Are you going out?" with the object of acquiring informa- 
tion, he would use instinctively a rising inflection on "out." 
If he were surprised at our intention to go out, he would use a 
wider rising inflection. And if he had asked the question 
several times without receiving a reply, and were now insisting 
on an answer (his motive now being to assert his right to an 
answer) he would use a wide downward inflection on "out." 
And so should we all under like conditions, and the meaning 
of all would be alike understood by all. We iieed enlarge no 
further on this. Let it suffice that if given inflections had 
not always the same meaning and were not always instinctively 
used to express the same purpose, conversation would be 
impossible. 

The rising inflection is the sign of incomplete sense. 
Whenever the mind points forward the significant inflection is 
upward. Test this in the following illustrations. The rising 



58 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

inflection will be particularly noticed on the italicized words, 
which are not necessarily to be strongly emphasized : 

In 1815 M. Charles Myriel was the bishop of D . He was a 

man of about seventy-five years of age, and had held the see of 

D since 1806. Although the following details in no way 

affect our narrative, it may not be useless to quote the rumors that 
were current about him at the moment when he came to the 
diocese ; for what is said of men, whether it be true or false, often 
occupies as much space in their life, and especially in their destiny,^ 
as what they do. 

The beams of the rising sun had gilded the lofty domes of Carth- 
age, and given, with its rich and mellow light, a tinge of beauty 
even to the frowning ramparts of the outer harbor. 

When, for any reason, we do not desire to assert strongly ; 
when what we have to say is trite, trivial, repetitious ; when 
we are uncertain or doubtful ; when we entreat ; when we ask 
a question to which the answer yes or no is expected, we also 
use the rising inflection. 

I do not claim this is the only method. 

I cannot promise definitely, but I think you may rely upon 
getting it. 

I shall wait for you in the lobby, if you don't tarry too long. 

It doesn't look like rain, does it? 

There are some arguments in its favor, but they are not 
weighty. 

No, nobody claims that. 

I grant I may have taken the honorable gentleman by surprise. 

I cannot tell what you and other men 
Think of this life, but, for my single self, 
I had as lief not be as live to be 
In awe of such a thing as I myself. 

*The rising" inflection will be heard only on the last syllable of this 
word. Note the discreet skip of the voice between the first and second 
syllables. 



THE CRITERION OF PITCH 59 

I do not charge the gentleman with wilful misstatement, but I 
would rather say he is a great economizer of the truth. 

I do not like to think that the opposition is purposely delaying 
the vote on this question. 

Never fear that: if he be so resolved, 
I can o'ersway him. 

You won't leave me, father. 

Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up to such a* 
sudden flood of mutiny ! 

O, Hamlet, speak no more. 

Pity the sorrows of a poor old man. 

It would be idle to base an opinion on any argument of Mr. 
Webster. 

O, that is of no consequence ; you don't believe that. 

It is hardly necessary for me to go over the charges of the 
attorney for the plaintiff; they are trivial and unimportant. 

It goes without saying that you know the early history of these 
people. 

There are very few who haven't a bowing acquaintance with 
this subject. 

You know me well, and herein spend but time 
To wind about my love with circumstance. 

Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more. 

It is not that I doubt the gentleman's honesty, but that I ques- 
tion his authority. 

It was at the end of the war that this incident occurred ; not at 
the beginning. 

Uncertainty, confusion, hesitation, and other forms of 
doubt, are really questions, — the mind seeking solution of 
difficult and perplexing problems. 

I wish I could find some way out of this, but — 



60 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

There ought to be some other method of solving this difficulty: 
let me see, let me see. 

I would. I had been there. 

Are you the owner of this house? 

Can you tell me what time it is? 

Care must be taken not to confuse this form of interroga- 
tion with Figurative Interrogation. The latter is often strongly 
assertive. For instance: 

God of battles, was ever a battle like this in the world before? 

This is equivalent to asking a question and answering it at 
the same time. It asks in words, "was ever?" It answers in 
inflection, "there never was." Grammatically, then, it is a 
question ; rhetorically, it is an exclamation. Here is another 
form of Figurative Interrogation : 

Are you going out? (No answer.) Are you going out? (I 
demand an answer. ) 

In this case, the second question becomes a demand. The 
speaker cares for an answer not so much because of any inter- 
est in it as such, but because he desires his authority respected. 

The following examples of Figurative Interrogation should 
be carefully studied : 

Is there a single atrocity of the French more unprincipled and 
inhuman than that of Russia, Austria, and Prussia, in Poland? 

Did he not know that he was making history that hour? Did he 
not know this, I say? 

If I were to propose three cheers for Washington, is there a 
single man, woman, or child in this vast audience who would refuse 
to lift his voice? 

Have you, gentlemen of the jury, considered the price the state 
asks the prisoner to pay for what is only an indiscretion at most? I 
repeat, have you considered the price? 

Has the gentleman done? Has he completely done? 



THE CRITERION OF PITCH 61 

A very interesting psychological question arises in connec- 
tion with Figurative Interrogation. It has been shown hov/ 
the grammatical question becomes an oratorical assertion; but 
there is a point in assertion beyond which it may pass and 
become an intense emotional question. In this sentence, ' ' Shall 
not the Judge of all the earth do right?" we have an illustra- 
tion. There are three possibilities here. First: a simple 
question looking for information. Second: a>n exclamation 
equivalent to, Who does not know that the Judge of all the 
earth shall do right? Third: a skeptical question (with con- 
siderable emotion) is it. possible that any one would deny that 
the Jndge of all the earth shall do right? 

It would be easy to multiply examples and make many 
refinements of this principle underlying the use of the rising 
inflection. A careful study, hov/ever, of those given should 
suffice to impress upon the reader that the rising inflection 
will be given whenever for any reason whatsoever there is no 
desire to assert. 

Incompleteness (implied or otherwise) is marked by the 
rising inflection; completeness by the falling. We are all 
aware that the falling inflection marks completed sense, so 
that this principle will require neither elaboration nor illustra- 
tion. Attention must be called, however, to the fact that we 
often assert strongly in the middle of a sentence. This phase 
of the subject has been so well described by another* that we 
quote as follows : 

"Momentary Completeness. — This applies to any clause, 
phrase, or even word, which has, for any reason, enough sepa- 
rate force to constitute, at the moment, an entire thought, and 

*Prof. W. B. Chamberlain in his "Rhetoric of Vocal Expression." 
This work is now out of print, but a revision and enlarg-ement of it 
is published by Scott, Foresman & Co., of Chicago, under the title 
" Principles of Vocal Expression and Literary Interpretation." 



62 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

to call for a separate affirmation of the mind. This momentary 
comiDleteness may arise : 

"1. From the logical importance of the clause, phrase, or 
word requiring a strong affirmative emphasis. 

"2. From an elliptical construction — one in which each 
part could be reasonably expanded into a complete proposition. 
''Example of 1 would be this sentence from Webster: 

It comes, if it come at all, like the outbreaking of a fountain 
from the earth, or the bursting forth of volcanic fires, with spon- 
taneous, original, native force. 

"Here the ideas of spontaneity, originality, nativeness, are each 
so important to the thought that the mind is called upon to make 
a separate affirmation upon each one. 

'' Examples oi 2 are found in some of the connected clauses in 
this passage from Byron's Dream of Darkness: 

I had a dream, which was not all a dream. 

The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars 

Did wander, darkling, in the eternal space, 

Ray less and pathless, and the icy earth 

Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air 

Morn came aad went — and came, and brought no day, 

And men forgot their passions in the dread 

Of this their desolation ; and all hearts 

AVere chilled into a selfish prayer for light. 

*'The 'loose' sentence presents at3^pical case of momentary 
completeness, each added clause or element giving a separate, 
subjoined thought. 

"In the following cases the j)eriod mark inclosed in 
brackets, [.], indicates the place at which the sentence might 
close ; and the words in parentheses are those which might be 
supplied in constructing separate complete propositions. The 
reconstruction suggests the probable process of thought. 

The next day he voted for that repeal [.], and he would have 
spoken for it too [.], if an illness had not prevented it. 



THE CRITERION OF PITCH 63 

The Englishman in America will feel that this is slavery — that 
it is legal slavery, will be no compensation, either to his feelings or 
his understanding. 

*'The Englishman in America will feel that this is slavery 
[.]. (The mere fact) that it is legal slavery will (in his esti- 
mation) be no compensation (at all). (It will not be (in any 
degree) satisfactory) either to his feelings or his understand- 
ing. 

' ' Completeness is marked in the voice by a falling slide ; 
that indicating finality usually descends at least a fifth (from 
sol down to do), and is preceded by a more or less distinct 
rising melody. This cadential melody may carry the voice so 
high in pitch that the falling slide will be as great as an 
octave. The indication of momentary completeness is also a 
falling slide, varying in extent from a third to a fifth, but not 
so marked as that of finality, and usually not preceded by any 
special rising melody. 

"In the following example note momentary completeness 
on 'man,' 'woman,' 'child,' and finality on the climacteric 
word 'l)east.' Thus: 

They saw not one man, not one woman, not one child, 

b 
footed e 

four a 

one s 

not t. 

*'It is especially important to study the relation of momen- 
tary completeness in connection with dependent clauses. As 
a rule, a definitive clause does not stand in the relation of 
momentary completeness, but in that of subordination or 
anticipation. A supplemental clause, on the other hand, is 
distinctively complete. This relation is not alwa3^s shown, 
either by the punctuation, or by exact use of relative pro- 



64 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

nouns. In strictness, 'wlio' and 'which', as abeady said, 
should always mark supplemental relations; 'that,' definitive. 
Considerations of euphony, however, often overrule grammat- 
ical and rhetorical principles. The problem in regard to 
dependent clauses is ; to decide whether the subordinate clause 
contains additional thought, or only modifying thought. The 
best practical test will be found in paraphrasing. If a depen- 
dent clause is truly definitive, it may be reduced to a brief 
element, — often to a single word, which may be incorporated 
in the first clause. 

Example. — Lafayette was intrusted by Washington with all 
kinds of services . . . the laborious and complicated, which 
required skill and patience; the perilous, that demanded nerve. — 
Everett. 

"In this example, it is obvious that the clause introduced 
by 'which' and the one beginning with 'that' stand in precisely 
the same relation, the change being made for euphony. It is 
obvious also that both dependent clauses are supplemental 
rather than definitive. In both of these clauses, therefore, 
there is an added thought, and this gives the relation of 
momentary completeness at the words 'complicated' and 'peril- 
ous.' 

"The ear, under the' guidance of the logical and rhetorical 
insight, gives a much more sensitive and more accurate punc- 
tuation than can be indicated by printer's marks or gram- 
marian's rules. Not the words, nor the grammatical 
elements, nor the customary and traditional rendering, 
determine grouping or inflection, but rather the speaker's 
immediate purpose at the moment of the utterance. 

"The principle of momentary completeness is strikingly 
exemplified in the case of a 'division of the question' in parlia- 
mentary proceedings. Division is called for because each item 
is considered as separately important enough to demand the 



THE CRITERION OF PITCH 65 

entire attention. The same is often true in the announce- 
ment of a proposition containing several different elements, or 
of a text of Scriptm^e suggesting many separate thoughts. " 

It need hardly be said that the rule so often given, that 
"the voice should rise at a comma," is ridiculous. It often 
does, it is true, — not because of the comma, but because of 
the motive. 

The purpose of the following drills is not to train the stu- 
dent in the manner of making inflections, but rather to 
impress upon his mind the fact that rhetorically a sentence 
may be complete even though the point of completion be not 
marked by a full stop. In other words, the drill is one in 
mental, rather than vocal, technique. 

The student must determine the purpose in every case, and 
then trust his voice to manifest that pui'pose. 

Hence! home,^ you idle creatures, get you home. 

Speak, what trade art thou? 

Where is thy leather apron, and thy rule? 

You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things. 

Many a time and oft 
Have you climb' d up to walls and battlements, 
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney -tops. 
Your infants in j^our arjns, and there have sat 

To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome. 

Be gone 1 
Run to your houses, fall upon your knees. 
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague 
That needs must light on this ingratitude. 

Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion ; 
By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried 
Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations. 



*The falling- inflection may properly be g-iven on the italicised words ; 
but the latter are not therefore necessarily to be emphasized. 



66 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

I was born free as Caesar, so were you ; 
We both have fed as well, and we can both 
Endure the winter's cold as well as he. 

His coward lips did from their Goloxfly, 

And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world 

Did lose his lustre. 

Ye gods, it doth amaze me, 
A man of such a feeble temper should 

. . . bear the palm alone. 

Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world 
Like a Colossus, and we petty men 
Walk under his huge legs and peep about 
To find ourselves dishonorable graves. 

Let me have men about me that are fat, 
Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights. 

Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort, 
As if he mocked himself. 

Such men as he be never at heart's ease 
Whiles they behold a greater than themselves. 
And therefore are they very dangerous. 

Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf, 
And tell me truly what thou think'st of him. 

Why, there was a crown offered him; and, being offered him, 
he put it by with the back of his hand, thus. 

I can as well be hanged as tell the manner of it ; it was mere 
foolery, I did not mark it. 

You look pale, and gaze, 
And put on fear, and case yourself in wonder, 
To see the strange impatience of the heavens. 

Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste. 

How that might change his nature, there's the question. 



THE CRITERION OF PITCH 67 

But when he once attains the upmost round 
He then unto the ladder turns his back, 
Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees 
By which he did ascend. 

... let us not break with him. 
For he will never follow anything 
That other men begin. 

It is often a matter of judgment whether we shall interpret 
a phrase as momentarily complete or as pointing forward, 
incomplete. Sometimes either interpretation would be 
acceptable, but, as a rule, one conveys the author's intention 
better than the other. For instance, in the following extract 
from The American Indian, the author savs : 

As a race they have withered from the land. Their arrows are 
broken, their springs have dried up, their cabins are in the dust. 
Their council-fire has long since gone out on the shore, and their 
war-cry is fast fading to the untrodden West. 

It seems clear that in the second sentence the author is 
not enumerating minor details which form one larger 
whole, but that each statement is a sentence complete in 
itself, and so important that spontaneously we separate it from 
the others not merely by a pause but by a downward inflection. 

If we were saying to another, "I bought my children 
firecrackers, torpedoes, skyrockets, and pin wheels, "we should 
use rising inflections until we closed our sentence on "pin- 
wheels." But it would be quite natural for the child, greatly 
excited by his presents, to use the downward inflection on those 
words, and these inflections would mark the importance, to him, 
of each separate gift. He would say, "I have firecrackers, — 
torpedoes, — skyrockets, — and pinwheels. " 

Circumflex inflections are the expression of complex 
mental states. Note this in the following examples : 



68 



READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 



Not inferior to this was the wisdom of him who resolved to 
shear the wolf. What, shear a icolf! Have you considered the 
danger of the attempt? No, says the madman, I have considered 
nothing but the right. 

Oh, no! He wouldn't accept a bribe; of course not. 

You meant no harm; oh, no : your thoughts are innocent. 

It isn't the secret I care about; it's the slight, Mr. Caudle. 

Difficult as is the subject of circumflex inflections, the 
difficulty is very much reduced when we bear in mind that the 
elements which compose them are the same as those with 
which we have been dealing. In Longfellow's King Robert 
of Sicily^ the Angel asks the king, "Who art thou?" To 
which Robert answers, sneeringly, "I am the King." InTow, 
on the word "I" we may expect to hear the rising circumflex 
(composed of a falling followed by a rising inflection) which 
the following paraphrase will justify : He dares ask me who 
lam! What audacity! Do you dare ask such a question of 
me? AYoLild you know who I am? Perhaps a diagram will 
make this clearer : 




Professor Chamberlain has made this question so clear that 
we quote from him again : 

"Paraphrase for Complex Relations: These, as already 
seen, are cases of combined ideas, expressed by composite 
motions of the voice, called circumflexes. In order to justify 
such double motion of the voice, the mind of the reader needs 



THE CRITERION OF PITCH 69 

to recognize the combination implied in the words. He will 
make himself surer of this by analyzing, or separating into 
its component parts, each composite idea. 

Be not too tame neither. 

"Here is a plain implication of one member of the antithe- 
sis; and it might be expanded thus. As you are not to be too 
extravagant in your expression, so you are not to be too quiet. 

*'This combination of separable elements might be illus- 
trated by diagram, thus : 

so you 

are 
not- 
to 
be 
too 
/\' \^ quiet. 

Be not too tame neither. 

"Here the negative, or anticipatory, clause is, in the con- 
densed form, suggested by the negative, or rising, part of the 
circumflex; the positive clause, by the falling part of the tone. 
"In a similar way two separate elements, both of which are 
verbally expressed, may be combined in one elliptical or com- 
plex clause ; e. g. : 

I come to biiry Caesar, not to praise him. 
"Inverting clauses: 

Caesar. but I 
praise y '\ come 

to y^ \^^ to 

not y^^--.^ ^^-'"X^^ bury 

come y^ """-.^ ,-''' \^ him. 

I / ~--A--''' 

I come to bury Caesar. 




70 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

"The same method of illustration may be extended ad 
libitum. ' ' 

There is one featm^e of circumflex inflection somewhat com- 
mon but seldom treated, the understanding of which is very- 
helpful to the teacher. This feature is observed when there 
are assertion and incomipleteness in the same word. For 
instance, "John Brown," being the important idea in the 
following sentence, would be uttered v/ith a falling inflection; 
but since the mind is glancing forward from "Brown" the 
rising inflection would mark that fact. Hence, the two states 
of mind would be manifested in a combined inflection the 
psychology of which should now be clear. 

John Brown was one of the most striking figures of the anti- 
slavery agitation. 

We have the same phenomenon on the word "Sicily" in 

the following extract, except that the falling inflection is on 

the first two syllables and the rising on the third : 

Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane 
And Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine 

. . . heard the priests chant the Magnificat. 

The extent, or width, of the inflection depends upon the 
amount of collateral thinking. Thus a simple question as, 
"Is your name Brown?" will take an inflection of about a 
third of the musical scale, while the inflection of Cassius on 
"Chastisement," in the example previously given, will be 
probably a full octave. The length of the inflection is 
explained by the philosophy of "Time" : it is a matter of the 
importance or non-importance of the idea. TJie direction of 
the inflection is explained by the philosophy of "Pitch": it is 
determined by the purpose, or motive. 

Varied melody is found in the speech of every-day life. 
Note how the voice continually runs up and down in a con- 



THE CRITERION OF PITCH 71 

versation on commonplace topics. The moment the suhject 
grows serious and dignified, the discriminative elements 
largely disappear and with them the varied melody ; until in 
solemn prayer, invocation, and certain forms of meditation in 
the absence of desire to insist on the importance of any one 
word, or the absence of the pm^pose to discriminate between 
one phase and another, we approach very close to the mono- 
tone. Let us remember, however, that it is not the emotion 
as such that affects the melody, but the mental content of the 
emotion. 

In order that the reader may see the application of the 
foregoing principles, an analysis of a complete poem is 
appended. There may be a difference of opinion concerning 
details, but it must be remembered that the value of this 
analysis for the student lies in the fact that it should teach 
him that some interpretation is to be definitely decided on. 
The average reading is haphazard ; so that one must gain a 
gi'eat deal through the mental drill necessary to decide the 
various questions that come up in the course of such an 
analysis as that here undertaken. It is a common experience 
to hear a pupil read a passage one way at one time and a 
different way at another. It would therefore seem to be 
better to read a passage incorrectly with some reason behind 
the error, than to read it correctly as a matter of accident, 
with the chance that the next time it is read the expression 
will be quite different. The greatest value of such analyses is 
found in the improvement in the student 's power of discrimi- 
nation. The melody^ loliicli manifests the 'piiiyoBe^ the motive^ 
is the very life of good reading. 

Up from the meadows rich with corn. 
Clear in the cool September morn, 

The clustered spires of Frederick stand 
Green-walled by the hills of Maryland. 



72 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Round about them orchards sweep, 5 

Apple and peach tree fruited deep, 

Fair as the garden of the Lord 

To the eyes of the famished rebel horde, 

On that pleasant morn of the early fall 

When Lee marched over the mountain wall; 10 

Over the mountains winding down. 
Horse and foot, into Frederick town. 

Forty flags with their silver stars, 
Forty flags with their crimson bars. 

Flapped in the morning wind : the sun 15 

Of noon looked down, and saw not one. 

Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then, 
Bowed with her fourscore years and ten ; 

Bravest of all in Frederick town, 

She took up the flag the men hauled down ; 20 

In her attic window the staff she set, 
To show that one heart was loyal yet. 

Up the street came the rebel tread, 
Stonewall Jackson riding ahead. 

Under his slouched hat left and right 35 

He glanced ; the old flag met his sight. 

"Halt!" — the dust-brown ranks stood fast. 
"Fire!" — out blazed the rifle-blast. 

It shivered the window, pane and sash ; 

It rent the banner with seam and gash. 30 

Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff 
Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf; 

She leaned far out on the window-sill, 
And shook it forth with a royal will. 

"Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, 35 

But spare your country's flag," she said. 



THE CRITERION OF PITCH 73 

A shade of sadness, a blush of shame, 
Over the face of the leader came ; 

The nobler nature within him stirred 

To life at that woman's deed and word; 40 

"Who touches a hair of yon gray head 
Dies like a dog! March on !" he said. 

All day long through Frederick street 
Sounded the tread of marching feet : 

All day long that free flag tost 45 

Over the heads of the rebel host. 

Ever its torn folds rose and fell 

On the loyal winds that loved it well ; 

And through the hill- gaps sunset light 

Shone over it with a warm good-night. 50 

Barbara Frietchie's work is o'er, 

And the Rebel rides on his raids no more. 

Honor to hor ! and let a tear 

Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall's bier. 

Over Barbara Frietchie's grave, 55 

Flag of Freedom and Union, wave ! 

Peace and order and beauty draw 
Round thy symbol of light and law ; 

And ever the stars above look down 

On thy stars below in Frederick town ! 60 

— Barbara Frietchie. Whittier. 

1. 3. — Note momentary completeness on "Frederick." 
1. 1-3. — These lines are anticipative. 

1. 5, 6. — Each line a complete affirmatiye statement^ 
although separated from the rest of the poem only by commas. 
1. 7. — "Lord," momentai-y completeness. 
1. 8. — Eising inflection on "horde," since the sense is 



74 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

incomplete until we come to "wall." A good example, since 
lines 9 and 10 would make very good sense without the succeed- 
ing two. 

1. 12. — Momentary completeness on "foot." 

1. 13-14. — The motive being the same in both lines, note 
that the melody is the same. 

1.16. — "Noon" is contrasted ' with "morning"; hence 
the rising circumflex on the former word. 

1. 17. — Transition here. Observe the higher key com- 
mencing on "up." 

1. 19. — This line is anticipative. Supply "being" 
before "bravest," and note how the temptation to use the fall- 
ing inflection on "town" disappears. 

1. 21. — Optional rising or falling inflection on "set." 

1. 23. — Transition in key. Why? 

1. 24. — What difference in motive would be conveyed by 
rising and falling inflections on "Jackson"? 

1. 25-28.— Transitions on "under," ''halt," "the," 
"fire," "out." Explain. 

1. 29. — Note the comma after "window." What is its 
function? 

1. 31. — Observe that "as it fell" is subordinate. Many 
read this couplet incorrectly. The idea is not "as it fell from 
the broken staff," but that she snatched it "from the broken 
staff." 

1. 33. — Anticipative. 

1. 35.— Transition. 

1. 37. — (1) Observe how the key lowers. Why? (2) 
What shades of meaning are conveyed by the following read- 
ings : «, momentary completeness on "sadness" and "shame" ; 
^, anticipation on "sadness," momentary completeness on 
"shame." Which do you prefer? Why? 

1. 41. — Transition. Is the key higher or lower? 



THE CRITERION OF PITCH 75 

1. 43-44, 45-46, 47-48.— Why is the melody about the 
same in these couplets? 

1. 49-50. — Many opportunities for choice of inflection on 
*'hill-gaps," "light," "over." 

1. 51. — Rising or falling inflection on "o'er"? Why? 

1. 56. — No momentary completeness on "Union." Why? 

1. 59, 60. — Contrast between "above" and "below." 

No attempt has been made in this analysis ta do more than 
direct attention to the portions of the poem in which inflec- 
tion and melody are affected by the interpretation. 

PEDAGOGICAL ASPECTS. 

Much of what has been said concerning the pedagogical 
aspects of the discussion of "Time" may be repeated here. 
Drills in inflections as such are of very little value and 
potentially very harmful. Occasionally we hear the argu- 
ment that a pupil has no ear for inflections, and that the di'ill 
is to train his ear. Most pupils have no difficulty in making 
proper inflections, so that for them class drills are time wasted; 
for those whose reading is monotonous, because of lack of 
melodic variety, the best drills are those which teach them to 
make a careful analysis of the sentences, and those which 
awaken them to the necessity of impressing the thought upon 
others. We deceive ourselves when we proceed to correct the 
error of monotony in any mechanical, artificial way. 

We have learned that, when a pupil has the proper motive 
in mind and is desirous of conveying his intention to another, 
a certain melody will always manifest that intention. The 
melody, then, is the criterion of the papil's purpose. We 
expect a certain melody with certain phrases. When that 
melody is heard, we are scarcely conscious of its presence; 
when another is heard, we are struck as by a discord of music 
when we expect concord. The moment a pupil loses sight of 



76 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

the exact meaning of a phrase and its relation to the other 
phrases, that moment his melody betrays him. JSTow the 
teacher must be able to translate the false melody. He must 
determine the pupil's purpose (or absence of any purpose) 
behind the incorrect melody, remove the wrong purpose, put 
in its stead the true purpose, and rely upon natural instincts 
to do the rest. Herein lies the great value to the teacher of 
a knowledge of the psychology of the criterion of pitch. 

Suppose a pupil reads, "Up from the meadows green 
with corn," using arising circumflex on "meadows." This 
would show at once that "meadows" was contrasted in his 
mind with something else. Eemove the contrast, direct his 
mind forward from that word to the next phrase, and the 
proper melody will come. Some teachers, especially those 
engaged in the teaching of young children, have a somewhat 
patronizing melody in all they say and read. This melody is 
overflowing with circumflexes, which are soon copied by the 
class. Let the teacher free himself from this patronizing 
mental condition and talk to the children as if they were men 
and women, and the peculiar melody will disappear from the 
voices of both teacher and pupil. It is rather difficult to 
present this melody in graphic form, but the following dia- 
gram may prove suggestive : 

Now let us take our 




children all books. 



It is hardly to be believed that there is so much ignorance 
as to the meaning of inflection. During the past two years, 
in schools of our largest cities, the author has heard teachers 
reprimand their pupils for allowing their voices "to fall at a 
comma." As if commas were intended to indicate vocal 



THE CRITERION OF PITCH 77 

expression ! Once when a bright lad used a falling inflection 
on "want," in such a sentence as "What do you want?" a class 
nearly shook their hands off in their endeavors to attract the 
teacher's attention, in order that, when he said, "What's 
wrong?" they might shout at the top of their voices, "He let 
his voice down at a question mark." 

One of the commonest of misunderstandings that prevail 
among us, is that the rising inflection is always to be given 
upon words preceding commas, and also that it must never be 
given at the end of a sentence. ^It is hoped that these fallacies 
have been entirely exploded, and that the teacher has learned 
that motive, and motive only, governs the inflection./ We used 
to be told to count one at a comma, two at a semi-colon, and 
four at a period. Such admonitions are exactly on a par with 
those just referred to. 

Teachers should bear in mind that pupils do not need to 
have a musical ear in order to read with correct melody. As 
we have stated again and again, melody is the result of 
varying tension, and that has nothing to do with the ability to 
recognize tones. With singing this is different. There we 
must strike certain notes, and ear training is necessary; but 
speech melody is instinctive, and all that is necessary for its 
development is mental training and practice in reading — not 
voice drills as such. 

The melody of long sentences presents a case of peculiar 
difficulty. Where the sentence is long, especially where it is 
long and involved, the pupil's melody is often faulty because 
he cannot hold the thought in mind from beginning to end. 
Pupils should be trained on sentences specially chosen to 
develop their powers of continuous thinking. These sen- 
tences should be carefully analyzed and thoroughly discussed 
before reading. The following examples, while too difficult 
for younger pupils, will afford good practice for the teacher : 



78 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

While the Union lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying pros- 
pects spread out before us, for us and. our children. Beyond that I 
seek not to penetrate the veil. God grant that in my day, at 
least, that curtain may not rise. God grant that on my vision 
never may be opened what lies behind. When my eyes shall be 
turned to behold for the last time the sun in heaven, may I not see 
him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once 
glorious Union ; on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent ; on a 
land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal 
blood ? Let their last feeble and lingering glance, rather, behold the 
gorgeous ensign of the republic, now known and honored through- 
out the earht, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies 
streaming in their original luster, not a stripe erased or polluted, 
not a single star obscured — bearing for its motto no such miserable 
interrogatory as, "What is all this worth?" nor those other words of 
delusion and folly, "Liberty first, and Union afterward;" but 
everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing on 
all its ample folds as they float over the sea and over the land, and 
in every wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment, 
dear to every true American heart — "Liberty and Union, now and 
forever, one and inseparable." — Reply to Hayne. Webster. 

Note that the force of "may I not see him" continues to 
"fraternal blood," and consequently that there should, be 
rising inflections on "Union," "dissevered," "discordant," 
"belligerent," "feuds," and "blood." And note further that 
"What is all this worth?" and "Liberty first, and Union 
afterward, " are anticipative and hence will take a rising inflec- 
tion on "worth" and "afterward." 

At Atri in Abruzzo, a small town 
Of ancient Roman date but scant renown. 
One of those little places that have run 
Half up the hill, beneath a blazing sun. 
And then sat down to rest, as if to say, 
"I climb no further upward, come what may," 
The Re Giovanni, now unknown to fame. 
So many monarchs since have borne the name, 
Had a great bell hung in the market place. 

— The Bell of Atri. Longfellow. 



THE CRITERION OF PITCH 79 

The town would have used a falling inflection on "may" 
because for it the sense would have been completed with that 
word ; but with us this phrase is subordinate, and hence the 
inflection on "may" will be rising. 

And as a hungry lion who has made 

A prey of some large beast — a horned stag 

Or mountain goat — rejoices, and with speed 

Devours it, though swift hounds and sturdy youths 

Press on his flank, so Menelaus felt 

Great joy when Paris, of the godlike form, 

Appeared in sight, for now he thought to wreak 

His vengeance on the guilty one, and straight 

Sprang from his car to earth with all his arms. 

— The Uiad, Book II. Homer (Bryant). 

But when public taste seems plunging deeper and deeper into 
degradation day by day, and when the press universally exerts 
such power as it possesses to direct the feeling of the nation more 
completely to all that is theatrical, affected, and false in art; 
while it vents its ribald buffooneries on the most exalted truth, 
and the highest ideal of landscape, that this or any other age has 
ever witnessed, it becomes the imperative duty of all who have any 
perception or knowledge of what is really great in art, and any 
desire for its advancement in England, to come fearlessly forward, 
regardless of such individual interests as are likely to be injured 
by the knowledge of what is good and right, to declare and 
demonstrate, wherever they exist, the essence and the authority of 
the beautiful and the true. — Modern Painters. Ruskin. 



CHAPTER III 

THE CRITERION OF QUALITY 

Thus far we have been considering the criteria of states 
essentially intellectual. "Time" has to do with the extent of 
the thought; "Pitch" with the purpose. Quality manifests 
emotional stpttes. By Quality we mean that subtle element 
in the voice by which is expressed at one time tenderness,. at 
another harshness, at another awe, and so on through the 
whole gamut of feeling. 

In order to prove that the quality {timlre^ the French call 
it) of the voice is the result of emotional conditions, we must 
first understand what we may term the physics of quality. 
The number of air waves striking the ear in a given time 
determines the pitch ; the width of the waves determines the 
volume of sound; the shape of the waves determines the 
quality. But how is the shape of air waves affected? It 
would take us too far from our subject to discuss this question 
in detail. * Let it suffice that the shape of the air wave, and 
hence the quality, is dependent upon the texture of the vibra- 
ting body. We recognize at once the different qualities 
respectively of the flute, piano, violin, harp or cornet; it is the 
difference in the texture of the vibrating substances that 
enables us to do this. Why will the artist pay thousands of 
dollars for a Stradivarius or Cremona violin? Not because of 
its age, but because of the quality of the tone he can bring out 
on that instrument, which is impossible on other makes of 
violins. The fashioners of these old instruments possessed 
a secret of treating or seasoning the wood that gave to their 

*See Tyndall on ^' Sound; " or Prof. Halm on the same subject. 

80 



THE CRITERION OF QUALITY 81 

products a tone quality the yiolin-makers of to-day endeavor 
in vain to reproduce. This treatment affected the texture of 
the wood, and hence the quality. 

To him who plays upon the human instrument of the voice, 
is given a great advantage over other artists. He can change 
the quality of his tone almost at will, while they can only 
approximate these changes. The tone as it comes from the 
vocal bands is comparatively colorless, but the size and shape 
of the reinforcing cavities (the larynx, pharynx, mouth, 
and nares), and the texture of their membranes, determine 
the quality of the tone that reaches the ear. Now, the size 
and shape of some of these can be changed at will, and are 
often modified unconsciously by emotion. The same may be 
said of the texture of the surface against which the tone 
impinges as it comes from the larynx. The shape of the nares 
and the texture of its membrane are virtually fixed, as is the 
texture of the roof of the mouth and the pharynx. Herein is 
the explanation of the individuality of voices. But the shape 
of the mouth and of the pharynx may be considerably modified 
by the action of the tongue, the raising, lowering, or contract- 
ing of the larynx, and the movements of the soft palate. It 
is, therefore, clear that the quality of the voice is partly fixed 
and partly changeable. 

Before we proceed to discuss the effect of emotion upon 
the quality, we must first recognize that voice defects are of 
three kinds : (1) Those arising from disease or accident, such 
as catarrh, obstructions in the nose, enlarged tonsils, broken 
nose, and many others. These require medical or surgical 
treatment. (2) Those arising from congenital defects, which 
can be only partially removed, such as cleft palate, abnormally 
narrow nares, and the like. (3) Those arising out of the tem- 
perament of the man and the improper use of his voice. 

It should now be plain that when we say that emo- 



82 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

tion affects the quality of the tone, we mean the peculiar 
quality of a particular man. If a speaker's voice is nasal, 
we do not claim that that quality is expressive of any emotion. 
On the contrary, nasal quality is the distinguishing character- 
istic of his voice, but that quality can be modified by emotion. 
In other words, there can be a nasal -tender quality, or a nasal- 
harsh quality, the tender or harsh feeling accounting for the 
difference. 

Paul Heyse has said, "The voice is the man." What did 
he mean by that? He did not mean that a throaty voice 
indicated one temperament, and a nasal voice another, but 
that the emotional man, the spiritual man, has a certain 
texture of muscle. This texture affects the quality of his 
natural voice, whatever that voice may be, and consequently 
the quality of the voice manifests the man. If we will 
interpret this dictum broadly, no fault will be found with it. 
Who does not recognize the blustering man by his bellowing 
tone? the fawning hypocrite by his oily quality? the aggres- 
sive, assertive individual by his harsh guttural? In all proba- 
bility, Heyse meant more than quality, in the sense in which 
we use it here; but granting this, his saying is of very wide 
application even in this restricted realm. 

How does emotion affect the quality of the voice? Emo- 
tion is essentially a muscular condition. This condition is 
determined by the amount of nervous energy sent to the 
muscles, and this energy determines the muscular texture. 
Tender emotions mean tender texture, a relaxed condition of 
the muscles; while harsh quality is the result not only of 
throat contraction (change in the shape of the reinforcing 
cavity) but of constricted muscle, harsh texture. This is all 
there is to the philosophy of "Quality." 

Dr. Eush, in his Pliilosophy of the Human Voice, has 
named many of these qualities. He calls them Normal, Oro- 



THE CRITERION OF QUALITY 83 

tund, Guttural, Pectoral, Falsetto, and so on; and mentions 
the emotional conditions that manifest themselves through 
these various forms. On the whole, his classification is sound; 
but there is one gross error, due either to himself or his fol- 
lowers, that must be considered here. The Orotund (the 
enlarged natural) quality is more than a loud voice. It is a 
full voice with a quality that cannot better be described 
than by the term richness. Many students have endeavored 
to obtain this quality by shouting, or by holding the mouth 
as if gaping, and have developed only loudness without 
a trace of soulfulness, or merely a round, hollow hot- 
potato-in-the-tliroat kind of voice. There is no objection to 
the use of the term Orotund to chai'acterize that rich, full 
tone suggestive of deep, full, enlarged feeling; but we must 
bear in mind that loudness is not only not necessary for the 
Orotund, but is often no part of it at all. The Orotund, as 
we have said, is that quality of which the main characteristics 
are roundness and richness. One who is restricted is not 
likely to use this quality. It can come only when there is the 
utmost freedom of the entire vocal region. When we have 
removed the tension which may be "the man," or the result 
of bad vocal training, we shall get that enlarged quality, which 
should not, as is so often the case, manifest merely the larger 
emotional states, but should be the natural voice of the 
speaker. The Orotund manifests dignity above all else; it 
manifests the large, grand sphit. Of course, we do not mean 
an affected Orotund, but an easy, large, unrestricted quality 
showing the largeness of the soul behind it. To develop this 
quality, let the student use his imagination. Let him dwell 
for a long time upon the sublimity and gTandeur of such pas- 
sages as follow. Then let him abandon himself to the emotion 
aroused through his contemplation, and in time the genuine 
Orotund will come. And so only can it come. So important 



84 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

is this phase of the subject that we repeat : The tone express- 
ive of elevated feeling "cannot" be mechanically produced, or 
manufactured independently of the general mental and physi- 
cal conditions." The imagination must lead, otherwise we 
shall have big voices without big quality. That peculiar 
quality expressive of enlarged feeling is not necessarily loud. 
In fact, the voice may not be strong, but, at the same time, it 
may suggest grandeur and sublimity far better than a voice that 
has sheer loudness. But, if the student will practice faithfully, 
he may be assured that his voice will receive more genuine 
training through these exercises than through a whole volume 
of merely technical drills. Develop the imagination, the soul, 
and the voice will grow through the effort of the soul to go 
out in expression. But let him avoid mere shouting and vocif- 
erating, even if he never gets a voice. 

If the student has not the imagination, he must develop it. 
There are many loud voices, but few with soulful quality. 
But v/hat avails this loudness? Certainly it enables one to be 
heard above the din of voices and the roar of the waves, but it 
never stirs the nobler emotions of an audience ; and unless one 
can do that he is anything but an orator. Mere loudness is 
rant — nothing less. 

Many students, for one reason or another, either have no 
ability to express elevated feeling in public, or repress it through 
diffidence or shyness. Let such remember that we are con- 
stantly experiencing and expressing this feeling in our every- 
day life ; that it is simply an enlargement of a more or less 
commonplace feeling; and let him begin with the simple 
examples that are set down first. Any one can say, AVhat a 
lovely day this is ! Well, that is a mild form of elevated feel- 
ing. Let him imagine it is graduation day, and that rain had 
been threatening to fall all the previous night. It is daylight 
now; and as he opens his eyes and looks up at the cloudless 



THE CRITERION OF QUALITY 85 

sky, will lie not exclaim with, elevated feeling, Wliat a glorious 
day we're going to liave! 

By *' elevated feelings" one must not understand those 
only that are serious and solemn. Whenever the imagination 
is enkindled by the contemplation of what is large, dignified, 
grand, sublime, the emotions are stirred, and find expression 
in enlarged, soulful quality. 

Ay, every inch a king. 

Think of it! a building that could hold a hundred thousand 
people ! 

Here will be their greatest triumph. 
Who shall put asunder the best affections of the heart? 
We loved the land of our adoption ! 
A good name is better than precious ointment. 
Gird up thy loins now, like a man. 
Comfort ye my people. 

O Zion, that bringest good tidings, get thee up into the high 
mountain ! 

He is as honest a man as ever breathed. 

Search creation round, where will you find a country that 
presents so sublime a spectacle, so interesting an anticix)ation? 

Most of all, fellow-citizens, if your sons ask whose example they 
sha,ll imitate, what will you say? For you know well it is not 
music, nor the gymnasiums, nor the schools, that mold young 
men ; it is much more the public proclamations, the public example. 
If you take one whose life has no high purpose, one who mocks at 
morals, and crown him in the theater, every boy who sees it is 
corrupted. When a bad man suffers his deserts, the people learn ; 
on the contrary, when a man votes against what is noble and 
JUST, and then comes home to teach his son, the boy will very 
promptly say, "Your lesson is impertinent and a bore." Beware, 
therefore, Athenians, remembering posterity will rejudge your 
judgment, and that the character of a city is determined by the 
character of the men it crowns. 



86 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Right forever on the scaffold, "Wrong forever on the throne ; 
But that scaffold sways the future, and behind the dim unknown 
Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above his own. 

Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State ! 
Sail on, O Union, strong and great ! 
Humanity, with all its fears, 
With all the hopes of future years 
Is hanging breathless on thy fate ! 
We know what Master laid thy keel, 
What workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, 
V/ho made each mast, and sail, and rope, 
What anvils rang, what hammers beat, 
* In what a forge, and what a heat, 

Were shaped the anchors of thy hope ! 

Fear not each sudden sound and shock ; 

'Tis of the wave, and not the rock; 

'Tis but the flapping of the sail, 

And not a rent made by the gale ! 

In spite of rock and tempest's roar, 

In spite of false lights on the shore. 

Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea ! 

Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee : 

Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears. 

Our faith triumphant o'er our fears, 

Are all with thee, — are all with thee! 

—The Ship of State. Longfellow. 

See what a grace was seated on this brow ; 
Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; 
An eye like Mars, to threaten and convnand ; 
A station like the herald Mercury 
New-lighted on a heaven- kissing hill ; 
A combination and a form indeed, 
Where every god did seem to set his seal, 
To give the world assurance of a man. 

Hamlet, Act iii., Sc, 4. 



THE CRITERION OF QUALITY 87 

Awake, my soul ! Not only passive praise 
Thou owest ; not alone these swelling tears, 
Mute thanks, and secret ecstasy. Awake, 
Voice of sweet song ! Awake my heart. Awake ! 
Green vales and icy cliffs, all join my hymn ! 

—Coleridge. 

And the evening star was shining 

On Schehallion's distant head. 
When we wiped our bloody broadswords, 

And returned to count the dead. 
There we found him, gashed and gory, 

Stretched upon the cmnbered plain, 
As he told us where to seek him, 

In the thickest of the slain. 
And a smile was on his visage, 

For within his dying ear 
Pealed the joyful note of triumph. 

And the clansman's clamorous cheer: 
So, amidst the battle's thunder, 

Shot, and steel, and scorching flame. 
In the glory of his manhood 

Passed the spirit of the Graeme ! 

Open wide the vaults of Atholl, 

Where the bones of heroes rest, — 
Open wide the hallowed portals 

To receive another guest ! 
Last of Scots and last of freemen, — 

Last of all that dauntless race. 
Who would rather die unsullied 

Than outlive the land's disgrace! 

— Aytoun. 

Bury the great Duke 

With an empire's lamentation, i 

Let us bury the Great Duke 

To the noise of the mourning of a mighty nation, 

Mourning when their leaders fall. 

Warriors carry the warrior's pall, 

And sorrow darkens hamlet and hall. 



88 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Where shall we lay the man whom we deplore? 
Here, in streaming London's central roar, 
Let the sound of those he wrought for, 
And the feet of those he fought for, 
Echo round his bones f orevermore. 

Lead out the pageant : sad and slow. 

As fits a universal woe, 

Let the long, long procession go, 

And let the sorrowing crowd about it grow, 

And let the mournful martial music blow ; 

The last great Englishman is low. 

All is over and done : 

Render thanks to the Giver, 

England, for thy son. 

Let the bell be toll'd. 

Render thanks to the Giver, 

And render him to the mold. 

Under the cross of gold 

That shines over city and river, 

There he shall rest forever 

Among the wise and the bold. 

Let the bell be toll'd: 

And a reverent people behold 

The towering car, the sable steeds : 

Bright let it be with his blazon 'd deeds 

Dark in its funeral fold, 

Let the bell be toll'd: 

And a deeper knell in the heart be knoll' d; 

And the sound of the sorrowing anthem roll'd 

Thro' the dome of the golden cross ; 

And the volleying cannon thunder his loss ; 

He knew their voices of old. 

For many a time in many a clime 

His captain's ear has heard them boom. 

Bellowing victory, bellowing doom : 

When he with those deep voices wrought, 

Guarding realms and kings from shame ; 

With those deep voices our dead captain taught 



THE CRITERION OF QUALITY 89 

The tyrant, and asserts his claim 
In that dread sound to the great name 
Which he has worn so pure of blame, 
' In praise and in dispraise the same, 

A man of well-attemper' d frame. 
O civic Muse, to such a name, 
To such a name for ages long. 
To such a name. 

Preserve a broad approach of fame, 
And ever-echoing avenues of song. 
— Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington. Tennyson. 

Venerable men! you have come down to us from a former 
generation. Heaven has bounteously lengthened out your lives, 
that you might behold this joyous day. You are now where you 
stood fifty years ago, this very hour, with your brothers and your 
neighbors, shoulder to shoulder, in the strife for your country. 
Behold, how altered! The same heavens are indeed above your 
heads ; the same ocean rolls at your feet ; but all else how changed ! 

You hear now no roar of hostile cannon, you see no mixed vol- 
ume of smoke and flame rising from burning CharlestowTi. The 
ground strewed with the dead and dying ; the impetuous charge ; 
the steady and successful repulse ; the loud call to repeated assault ; 
the summoning of all that is manly to repeated resistance; a 
thousand bosoms freely and fearlessly bared in an instant to 
whatever of terror there may be in war and death ; all these you 
have witnessed, but you witness them no more. 

All is peace. The heights of yonder metropolis, its towers and 
roofs, which you then saw filled with wives and children and 
countrymen in distress and terror, and looking with unutterable 
emotions for the issue of the combat, have presented you to-day 
with the sight of its whole happy population come out to welcome 
and greet you with a universal jubilee. Yonder proud ships, by a 
felicity of position appropriately lying at the foot of this mount, 
and seeming fondly to cling around it, are not means of annoyance to 
you, but your country's own means of destruction and defense. — 
Webster. 

What lesson shall those lips teach us? Before that still, cahn 
brow let us take a new baptism. How can we stand here without a 



90 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

fresh and utter consecration? These tears ! how shall we dare even 
to offer consolation? Only lips fresh from such a vow have the 
right to mingle their words with your tears. We envy you your 
nearer place to these martyred children of God. I do not believe 
slavery will go down in blood. Ours is an age of thought. Hearts 
are stronger than swords. That last fortnight ! How sublime its 
lesson! the Christian one of conscience, — of truth. Virginia is 
weak, because each man's heart said amen to John Brown. His 
words, — they are stronger even than his rifles. These crushed a 
State. Those have changed the thoughts of millions, and will 
yet crush slavery. Men said, "Would he had died in arms!" God 
ordered better, and granted to him and the slave those noble prison 
hours, — that single hour of death; granted him a higher than the 
soldier's place, — that of teacher; the echoes of his rifles have died 
away in the hills, — a million hearts guard his words. God bless 
this roof, — make it bless us. We dare not say bless you, children 
of this home ! you stand nearer to one whose lips God touched, and 
we rather bend for your blessings. God make us all worthier of 
him whose dust we lay among these hills he loved. Here he 
girded himself and went forth to battle. Fuller success than his 
heart ever dreamed God granted him. He sleeps in the blessings of 
the crushed and the poor, and men believe more firmly in virtue, 
now that such a man has lived. Standing here, let us thank God 
for a firmer faith and fuller hope. — Wendell Phillips. 

A great deal of space has been given to the preceding illus- 
trations because the quality necessary to express the emotions 
in those selections is very rare. Rare for two reasons : first, 
because we dwell so much of the time in the realm of the so- 
called practical that we lose interest in the sublimer aspects 
presented in poetry; and, secondly, we do not express these 
larger emotions freely and often. Expression, like all other 
powers, comes through practice. 

The second distinct quality is what has been called the 
Normal. This is the voice of everyday life, the voice in 
which we carry on the conversation of the home, the school- 
room, and the business of life generally. We need no special 



THE CRITERION OF QUALITY 91 

practice in this quality, but it is well to recognize it in order 
that we may compare with it the other qualities. The follow- 
ing extract would be expressed in Normal quality. 

Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trip- 
pingly on the tongue ; but if you mouth it, as many of your players 
do, I had as lief the town crier spoke my lines. And do not saw 
the air too much with your hand, thus ; but use all gently : for in 
the very torrent, tempest, and (as I may say) whirlwind of your 
passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it 
smoothness. Oh, it offends me to the soul to hear a robustious, 
periw^ig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split 
the ears of the groundlings, who, for the most part, are capable of 
nothing but inexplicable dumb-shows and noise. I would have such 
a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant; it out-herods Herod: 
pray you avoid it. 

Be not too tame either, but let your own discretion be your tutor : 
suit the action to the word, the word to the action, with this 
special observance, that youo'erstep not the modesty of Nature; for 
anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, 
both at the first, and now, w^as, and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror 
up to Nature, to show Virtue her own feature. Scorn her own image, 
and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure. Now, 
this overdone, or come tardy off, though it make the unskillful 
laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve ; the censure of the 
which one must, in your allowance, o'erweigh a v/hole theater of 
others. Oh, there be players that I have seen play — and heard 
others praise, and that highly — not to speak it profanely, that, 
neither having the accent of Christians, nor the gait of Christian, 
pagan, or man, have so strutted and bellowed that I have thought 
some of Nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them 
well, they imitated humanity so abominably. — Hamlet, Act iii., 
Sc. 2. 

In a work which makes no pretension to cover the whole 
realm of elocution, it would be out of place to discuss the 
more extravagant forms of emotion, such as terror, rage, hate, 
and the like. In order, however, to give this phase of the 



92 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

subject a certain approximation to complete treatment, it may 
be well to touch upon these abnormal emotional states and the 
respective qualities in which they find expression. 

There is a wide range of feeling that so affects the action of 
the vocal apparatus as to produce a breathy tone. It would be 
idle and misleading to enumerate all the occasions upon which 
we might expect to hear this aspirated voice. Suffice it that a 
sense of oppression resulting from any one of many causes : the 
desire not to be overheard; the weakness of old age and 
disease — any of these conditions may produce the aspirated 
tone. Aspiration does not manifest any one emotion, but may 
accompany many. There may be considerable aspiration 
mixed with the expression of joy, as well as with the expres- 
sion of hate or despair. It is well to bear this in mind, for 
many text books give the "Aspirated Quality" as a specific 
kind of voice manifesting specific emotions and those only. 
When we observe that this quality is found in awe, terror, 
hate, and like emotions; in debility; and when we wish to 
whisper ; the unscientific nature of such a classification be- 
comes sufficiently clear. A few examples are appended: 

St ! Don't make any noise : he's asleep. 
Walk softly: I think they're listening. 
Go away ! I hate you. 
Oh ! I'm so tired ; help me along. 

How can I tell him the truth ! 
There is no hope. 

"Charge, Chester, charge! On, Stanley, on!" 
Were the last words of Marmion. 

O horror I horror ! horror ! 

Tongue, nor heart, cannot conceive, nor name thee ! 

Measureless liar ! 



THE CRITERION OF QUALITY 93 

Spare me, great God ! Lift up my drooping brow ; 
I am content to die ; but, oh, not now, 

I pray you, give me leave to go hence ; 
I am not well. 

Dear master, I can go no further : O, I die for food ! Here lie 
I down, and measure out my grave. Farewell, kind master. 

How ill this taper burns ! Ha ! who comes here? 

I think it is the weakness of my eyes 

That shapes this monstrous apparition. 

It comes upon me. Art thou any thing? 

Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil, 

That mak'st my blood cold, and my hair to stare? — 

Speak to me what thou art. 

— Julius Caesar, Act iv., Sc. 3. 

Lady Macbeth. Alack! I am afraid they have awak'd, 
And 'tis not done. The attempt, and not the deed, 
Confounds us. Hark ! — I laid their daggers ready, 
He could not miss them. — Had he not resembled 
My father as he slept, I had done 't. My husband ! 

Macbeth. I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise? 

Lady Macbeth. I heard the owl scream, and the crickets cry. 
Did you not speak? 

Macbeth. When? 

Lady Macbeth. Now. 

Macbeth. As I descended? 

Lady Macbeth. Ay. 

Macbeth. Hark ! 
Who lies i' th' second chamber? 

Lady Macbeth. Donalbain. 

Macbeth. This is a sorry sight. [Looking at his hands. 

Lady Macbeth. A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight. 

Macbeth. There's one did laugh in 's sleep, 
And one cried, "Murder!" that they did wake each other; 
I stood and heard them : but they did say their prayers, 
And address 'd them again to sleep. 

— Macbeth, Act ii., Sc. 2. 



94 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Stern, seT'ere, harsh feelings have a tendency to contract 
the throat ; hence, we get a quality that is called the Guttural. 
It is heard only where the passion grips the throat. 

Mend, and change home, 
Or by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe. 
And make me wars on you : look to 't : Come on ! 

"Curse on him!" quoth false Sextus: 
"Will not the villain drown? 

But for this stay, ere close of day 

We should have sacked the town!" 

Never, lago. Like to the Pontic Sea, 

Whose icy current and compulsive course 

Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on 

To the Propontic and the Hellespont, 

Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace, 

Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love, 

Till that a capable and wide revenge 

Swallow them up. Now, by yond' marble heaven, 

In the due reverence of a sacred vow 

I here engage my words. 

— Othello, Act iii., Sc. 3. 

Blow winds, and crack your cheeks ! rage ! blow ! 

You cataracts and hurricanes, spout 

Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks! 

You sulphurous and thought-executing fires. 

Vaunt couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts. 

Singe my white head I And thou, all-shaking thunder, 

Strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world ! 

Crack Nature's molds, all germens spill at once. 

That make ungrateful man ! 

— King Lear, Act iii., Sc, 2. 

There are two opposite qualities of voice well known to 
singers: the bright, ringing tone, and the dark, sombre, 
covered tone. This distinction is, for the purposes of the 
public-school teacher, far more valuable than most others. 



THE CRITERION OF QUALITY 95 

Joy, happiness, buoyancy, exuberance, are likely, wlien 
there are no marked physical defects, to find expression 
in the bright tone ; while sorrow and the moods of introspec- 
tion may often modify the texture of the vibrating substances 
so as to produce the darker quality. 

EXTRACTS TO ILLUSTRATE "DARK" QUALITY. 

King. O, my offense is rank, it smells to Heaven ; 
It hath the primal eldest curse upon't, 
A brothei 's murder ! Pray can I not : 
Though inclination be as sharp as will, 
My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent ; 
And, like a man to double business bound, 
I stand in pause where I shall first begin, 
And both neglect. What if this cursed hand 
Were thicker than itself with brother's blood, 
Is there not rain enough in the sweet Heavens 
To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy 
But to confront the visage of offense? 
And what's in prayer but this twofold force, — 
To be forestalled ere we come to fall, 
Or pardon'd being down? Then I'll look up; 
My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer 
Can serve my turn? Forgive me my foul murder? 
That cannot be; since I am still possess' d 
Of these effects for which I did the murder. 
My crown, mine own ambition, and my Queen. 
May one be pardoned and retain th' offense? . . . 

— Hamlet, ilct iii., Sc. 3. 

Alas ! my noble boy ! that thou shouldst die ! 

Thou who wert made so beautifully fair ! 
That death should settle in thy glorious eye, 

And leave his stillness in this clustering hair ! 
How could he mark thee for the silent tomb, 
My proud boy, Absalom! 

Cold is thy brow, my son ! and I am chill 
As to my bosom I have tried to press thee ! 



96 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

How was I wont to feel my pulses thrill 

Like a rich harp-string yearning to caress thee, 
And hear thy sweet "my father P^ from those dumb 
And cold lips, Absalom ! 

But death is on thee ! I shall hear the gush 
Of music, and the voices of the young ; 

And life will pass me in the mantling blush, 
And the dark tresses to the soft winds flung ; — 

But thou no more, with thy sweet voice, shalt come 
To meet me, Absalom ! 

And oh ! when I am stricken, and my heart, 

Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken, 
How will its love for thee, as I depart, 

Yearn for thine ear to drink its last deep token ! 
It were so sweet, amid death's gathering gloom, 
To see thee, Absalom ! 
— David's Lament over Absalom. N. P, Willis. 



Lear. You Heavens, give me patience, — patience I 
need! 
You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, 
As full of grief as age ; wretched in both ! 
If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts 
Against their father, fool me not so much 
To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger; 
And let not women's weapons, water-drops. 
Stain my man's cheeks ! — No, you unnatural hags, 
I will have such revenges on you both, 
That all the world shall— I will do such things, — 
What they are, yet I know not ; but they shall be 
The terrors of the earth. You think I'll weep; 
No, I'll not weep : 

I have full cause of weeping ; but this heart 
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws. 
Or e'er I'll weep. — O Fool, I shall go mad! 

— King Lear, Act ii., Sc. 4. 



THE CRITERION OF QUALITY 97 

EXAMPLES TO ILLUSTRATE ''BRIGHT" QUALITY. 

Gratiano. Let me play the fool: 
With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come. 
And let my liver rather heat with wine 
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. 
Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, 
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? 
Sleep when he wakes and creep into the jaundice 
By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio — 
I love thee, and it is my love that speaks — 
There are a sort of men whose visages 
Do cream and mantle like a standing pond. 
And do a willful stillness entertain. 
With purpose to be dress' d in an opinion 
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit, 
As who should say, "I am Sir Oracle, 
And when I ope my lips let no dog bark!" 
O my Antonio, I do know of these 
That therefore only are reputed wise 
For saying nothing, who, I am very sure, 
If they should speak, would almost damn those ears 
Which, hearing them, would call their brothers, fools. 
I'll tell thee more of this another time: 
But fish not, with this melancholy bait, 
For this fool gudgeon, this opinion. 
Come, good Lorenzo. Fare ye well awhile : 
I'll end my exhortation after dinner. 

— The Merchant of Venice, Act i., Sc. 1. 

She mounts her chariot with a trice. 
Nor would she stay for no advice. 
Until her maids, that were so nice. 

To wait on her were fitted. 
But ran herself away alone ; 
Which when they heard, there was not one 
But hasted after to be gone. 

As she had been diswitted. 

Hop, and Mop, and Drap so clear, 
Pip, and Trip, and Ship, that were 



98 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

To Mab their sovereign dear, 

Her special maids of honor ; 
Fib, and Tib, and Pinck, and Pin, 
Tick, and Quick, and Jill, and Jin, 
Tit, and Nit, and Wap, and Win, 

The train that wait upon her. 

Upon a grasshopper they got. 

And what with amble and with trot, 

For hedge nor ditch they spared not, 

But after her they hie them. 
A cobweb over them they throw. 
To shield the wind if it should blow. 
Themselves they wisely could bestow. 

Lest any should espy them. 

— Queen Mab. Drayton. 

Cheer answer cheer, and bear the cheer about. 
Hurrah, hurrah, for the fiery fort is ours ! 
"Victory, victory, victory!" 



„a8K- 



Hear the sledges with the bells, — silver bells; 

What a world of merriment their melody foretells ! 

How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle. 

In the icy air of night ! 

While the stars that oversprinkle 

All the heavens, seem to twinkle 

With a crystalline delight ; 

Keeping time, time, time. 

In a sort of Runic rhyme, 

To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells 

From the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, — 

From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. 

—The Bells. Poe. 

PEDAGOGICAL ASPECTS. 

For the third time, it is well to be reminded that drills in 
the elements of expression as such have no place in public- 
school training. Perhaps in no part of the work is more care 



THE CRITERION OF QUALITY 99 

necessary than in the development of the pupil's power to 
express feeling. If we were discussing methods of teaching 
elocution outside of the public school, the author would be 
compelled to protest strongly against a prevalent practice of 
endeavoring to develop the different vocal qualities apart fi'om 
the emotion that produces these qualities. But the diffi- 
culty in public-school methods is that they pay comparatively 
little attention to emotional expression. As a general thing, 
so educators say, there is either no feeling ("no expression," 
some put it), or, what is worse, there is a palpable affecta- 
tion of feeling. Somehow, it has come to be considered 
"girlish" for a boy to put feeling into his reading, especially 
tender feeling ; and for the girl to do so is considered a sure 
indication of weakness. The atmosphere of the school -room 
is not conducive to the development of emotional power, and 
if, by any chance, a shoot should peep out of the soil, it dies 
for want of light and warmth. Emotion in itself is a good 
thing, when properly guided ; but we need emotion in reading 
because it is a sign that the pupil can be moved by the con- 
templation of the noble, the tender, the true. It is a sign 
that the children have that precious gift of imagination. 
Where there is no opportunifcy for the expression of feeling, 
there must result a great loss in expressive power and eventu- 
ally in power of imagination. Such a loss is irremediable, for 
there follows in its wake inability to appreciate the finer breath 
and spirit of literature. 

Our public schools, except in particularly favored districts, 
can do very little towards training the voices of the pupils. 
Even when there are special teachers the best results are found 
not so much in the voices as in the ability to read music. To 
train the human voice requires genius and much particular 
training, and we cannot expect that school communities will 
appoint such teachers for many, many generations. But 



100 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

development of the child's powers of expression through the 
stimulation of his imagination and emotions will do wonders 
for his voice. So that here we have a third reason for pleading 
so earnestly for more careful attention to this aspect of vocal 
expression. One hears so often the excuse, "Oh, he hasn't 
any voice; that's why he can't read." The author believes 
with that great specialist in the child voice, William L. 
Tomlins, that, except when there are serious structural 
defects, the imagination and soul will make a voice. Let it 
be remarked, that the claim is not made that vocal training is 
unnecessary. But when we look at the conditions that make 
impossible the appointment of skilled specialists in voice, we 
give up in despair of effecting for some time to come any 
radical change. Further, a good voice does not imply a good 
reader. Since, then, we can not get the voice teacher ; and 
since, when we can, we are not assured he will develop good 
expressionists, it should be a great stimulus to the consci- 
entious teacher to learn that the very highest quality of the 
voice, soulfulness, may be developed through stimulation of 
the imagination. And, further, let us note that expression 
that comes in this way can never be affected. 

The teacher now knows that emotion affects the quality of 
tone. Let him then use this knowledge as he has learned to 
use his knowledge of the other criteria. We recognize instinc- 
tively the quality that expresses sorrow, tenderness, Joy and 
the other states of feeling. When the proper quality does not 
appear it is because the child has no feeling or the wrong feel- 
ing — generally the former. There is but one way to correct 
the expression, i. e., by stimulating the imagination. 

This is a most difficult task, but that fact does not excuse 
us from attempting it. In Part II this feature will be 
treated at length. 



CHAPTEE IV 



THE CRITEEIOX OF TORCE 



Force manifests the degree of mental energy. When we 
speak in a loud voice there is much energy; when softly, there 
is little. This criterion is the easiest of the four to under- 
stand, because, perhaps, it is the most tangible. We need 
not stay, therefore, to illustrate, but may pass on to consider 
a subdivision of Force, the understanding of which is very 
necessary to good teaching. 

In reading the following lines note how explosive is the 
utterance on the emphatic words : 

Down ! down ! your lances, down ! 
Bear back both friend and foe ! 

Now observe how differently we apply the force on the 
emphatic words of this extract : 

Ye gods ! ye gods ! Must I endure all this? 

In the first example, upon the emphatic words, there was 
heard a loud explosion of the voice, followed by a gradual 
diminution in force; in the second, the voice perceptibly 
swelled on the significant words. This swell or diminish has 
been called "Stress." Perhaps it is not the best word, but 
since its meaning in the sense in which we are using it here is 
generally understood, it maybe well to retain it. "Stress" 
refers to the manner of applying the force to the emphatic 
syllable. In the first of the preceding illustrations, the great- 
est force was at the beginning of the emphatic syllable. This 
form is called "Radical" stress. In the second, the force 

101 



102 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

was applied in the opposite manner. This form is denomi- 
nated "Final" stress. 

Eadical stress marks all forms of animated utterance. It 
is the result of the normal action of the vocal chords, which, 
coming together before syllabic impulses, suddenly part, 
causing a slight degree of explosion. Absence of this form of 
stress gives the delivery a kind of drawling effect. It is fur- 
ther to be noted that even in those utterances characterized 
by other forms of stress this form yet manifests itself on most 
of the syllables. After the student has practiced the other 
forms of stress, he will better understand this remark. He 
v/iil have noticed that the other forms are significant just in so 
far as they differ from this one, which is the normal ; and, 
further, that because the radical stress is normal, the use of 
other forms of stress on a comparatively few (emphatic) 
syllables will give a very significant coloring to a whole para- 
graph. 

We must guard against over-developing this abruptness. 
If we do not, our delivery will be very likely to become explo- 
sive, and then we shall create the impression of being too dog- 
matic. On the other hand, slovenliness and drawling may be 
overcome by drilling on this element of expression, and much 
vitality will thereby be imparted to the speaking. 

All speech, then, has this abrupt character. It has become 
so familiar to us that we do not notice it except, as it were, 
in its absence, when the delivery becomes drawling or 
slovenly. Hence, we can say that radical stress in its milder 
forms is not essentially expressive; it is an inherent part of 
our vocal production. It becomes expressive only in its 
stronger forms. The student whose delivery is sufficiently 
vital need not practice on the milder form. It need hardly 
be said that the form and the thought should not be sepa- 
rated in this practice. 



THE CRITERION OF FORGE 103 

It should also be borne in mind that there are different 
degrees of stress as well as kinds. Professor Eaymond truly 
says, "Never confuse the kind of stress with the degree." To 
illustrate ; the decided stroke of the voice is heard in, 

Come, and trip it as ye go 
On the light fantastic toe ; 

but a strong attack would spoil the daintiness. Let us 
remember that a grain of gunpowder explodes as well as a ton. 
This admonition applies as well to other forms of stress. 

It has been urged, that if the claim is true that the com- 
plete assimilation of the thought and feeling will, through 
practice, lead to adequate expression, why bother the student 
with such drills as these? The answer is plain. One's 
temperament may be of such a nature that he cannot express 
a single sentence without, say, the greatest insistency. The 
insistency is temperamental, and it shows in everything the 
speaker does. By a careful study of "Stress," he is intro- 
duced to his own consciousness, soon recognizes his weakness, 
and his delivery is improved tlirough improving his mental 
action. If this is true for the creative speaker, the orator, how 
much more is it true of him who reads or recites the words of 
another. 

A few years ago, a well-known minister spoke these words : 
"You may read the tragedies of Sophocles, and the philosophy 
of Plato and Aristotle ; you may be familiar with the lore of 
the Hindus and the Brahmins ; you may know your Shake- 
speare, your Milton, and your Dante, your Wordsworth, your 
Browning, and your Tennyson, but [raising aloft a limp- 
covered Bible] it's all here!" And he brought the book down 
on the palm of his hand with a thwack that was heard 
throughout the building. He fairly exploded on "all here," 
and the congregation laughed. Paraphrased, his stress said, 



104 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

I — I, wlio know what I am talking about, tell you people — 
deny it if you can — it's all here. There was no appeal, no 
tenderness, no gentle persuasiveness. His purpose ought to 
have been (to avoid argument, let it be said that the context 
justifies this remark — he was appealing for a more careful and 
reverential study of the Bible) to express. Oh, my friends, this 
holy work, this revelation of God's goodness, contains all you 
need. Why not take it up, and study it? You read all 
literatures ; will you not read this too? The trouble was that 
the preacher, being naturally of an aggressive nature, lost 
sight of his final purpose, and spoiled what might have been a 
very effective appeal, by obtruding himself between his illus- 
tration and his audience. It may be of interest to state that 
the speaker's attention was called to this; and he admitted 
the justice of the criticism, while disclaiming all knowledge of 
what he had done, and how he had done it. 

• This illustrates the contention. He had had no idea that 
he had become so assertive that he virtually said, /tell you so, 
on every emphatic word. A study of *' Stress" and its 
psychology would certainly have helped him. 

In The Orator's Manual the author sums up this matter 
of radical stress thus: "The radical stress is exerted on 
account of a subjective . . . motive; in other words, because 
a man desires chiefly to express an idea on his own account. 
... In [this] case the sound bursts forth abruptly, as if the 
man were conscious of nothing but his own organs to prevent 
the accomplishment of his object. ... It is used when- 
ever one's main wish is to express himself so as to be distinctly 
understood. In its mildest form, it serves to render articula- 
tion clear and utterance precise; when stronger, it indicates 
bold and earnest assurance, positiveness, and dictation. 
. . . Without [this] stress, gentleness becomes an inarticu- 
late and timid drawl, and vehemence mere brawling bombast. 



THE CRITERION OF FORCE 105 

With too frequent use of it, one's delivery becomes character - 
izod by an appearance of self-assertion, assurance, or precise- 
ness." In other words, it is the "I" stress. 

Of final stress. Professor Eaymond says: "It is exerted on 
account of an objective idea. The sound is pushed forth 
gradually, as if the man were conscious of outside opposition, 
and of the necessity of pressing his point. It is used when- 
ever one's main wish is to impress his thoughts on others. It 
gives utterance, in its weakest form, to the whine or complaint 
of mere peevishness demanding consideration ; when stronger 
to a pushing earnestness or determination; in its strongest 
form, to a desire to cause others to feel one's own astonish- 
ment, scorn, or horror. . . . Without final stress there can 
be no representation of childish weakness or obstinacy, or of 
. . . resolution; used too exclusively, or excessively, it 
causes delivery to be characterized by an appearance of wil- 
fulness, depriving it of the qualities of persuasion that appeal 
to the sympathies. " 

A very little of final stress will give a decided coloring to 
the delivery. The student should be careful, therefore, not 
to overdo it. To illustrate : a speaker is urging the colonists 
to abandon the idea of war, claiming that they are weak, and 
so on. Patrick Henry rises and says, "Sir, w§ are not weak 
if we make a proper use of those means which the God of 
nature hath placed in our power. Three millions of people 
armed in the holy cause of liderty,.Siia.d. in such a country as 
that which tue possess, are irtvincihle by a7iy force which our 
enemy can send against us." On the word "not, "the speaker 
is plainly pushing aside the argument of his opponent. When 
he utters "liberty," we note again the insistent idea. He 
tells us by his stress. Other revolutions may have failed 
through lack of numbers, but the gentleman forgets that ours 
will be a struggle for liberty. Again, in "we," "invincible," 



106 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

and "any," we plainly discern the idea of oyercoming opposi- 
tion. Now, it must be clear that while it is only on the five 
words italicized we note the insistence, yet the whole state- 
ment is strongly tinged by it. 

There is a third form of stress commonly called "Median." 
This is a combination of the final and radical, and manifests a 
combination of the objective and subjective states. There are 
other combinations and forms of stress, but they are rarely 
heard and need not be dwelt upon here. 

Attention needs to be directed to the fact that stress 
sometimes extends through several words and gives a character- 
istic color to an entire phrase or sentence. For instance, we 
note that the swell continues from the opening word to 
"despised," in the following speech of Cassio, who is oppos- 
ing lago's plan. Note further the same effect on phrases 
italicized : 

I will rather sue to be despised, than to deceive so good a com- 
mander, with so slight, so drujiken, and so indiscreet an ofiicer. 
Drunk! and speak parrot? and squabble? swagger? swear? and 
discourse fustian w^th one's own shadow? O thou invisible spirit 
of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee — 
devil! — Othello, Act ii., Sc. 3. 

Observe hov/ the force increases up to "Lord" and dies 
away to the end in the following : 

O, sing unto the Lord a new song. 

It may be well to remark here that there are certain writers 
who hold that the study of stress is misleading, or at best 
useless. To these answer is made that music uses these 
stresses very much in the sense in which they are used here. 
The attack necessary for pure singing or instrumental tone is 
our radical (normal) stress. The "staccato" and "sforzando" 
are more intense forms of this stress. The "crescendo," 



THE CRITERION OF FORCE 107 

"diminuendo," and "swell" are respectively equivalent to 
"final," prolonged "radical," and "median" stresses. 

It may be well to call attention to a very general confusion 
of ideas in the use of the word "low. " It is applied to force 
and pitch indiscriminately, to the loss of an important distinc- 
tion. Low pitch is the result of low tension, while soft force 
is diminished mental energy. High pitch may accompany soft 
force, and loud force may be simultaneous with low pitch. It 
is because low pitch has generally accompanied soft force that 
the confusion has arisen. 

EXAMPLES ILLUSTRATING THE USE OF RADICAL STRESS. 

Are you ready? Go ! 

Carry — Arms. 
Present — Arms. 
Right about — face. 
Halt. 

Stop, don't take another step. 

Give me that pencil; it's mine. 

Leave the room, sir. 

One, two, three, fire. 

Back ! beardless boy ! 
Back ! minion ! Holdst thou thus at naught 
The lesson I so lately taught? 

Man, who art thou who dost deny my words? 

But in the gloom they fought, with bloodshot eyes 
And laboring breath ; first Rustum struck the shield 
Which Sohrab held stiff out ; the steel-spiked spear 
Rent the tough plates, but fail'd to reach the skin. 
And Rustum pluck' d it back with angry groan. 
Then Sohrab with his sword smote Rustum's helm. 
Nor clove its steel quite through ; but all the crest 
He shore away, and that proud horsehair plume, 
Never till now defiled, sank to the dust. 

— Sohrab and Rustum. M. Arnold. 



108 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

He spoke, and Rustum answer'd not, but hurl'd 
His spear ; down from the shoulder, down it came, 
As on some partridge in the corn a hawk, 
That long has tower' d in the airy clouds, 
Drops like a plummet ; Sohrab saw it come, 
And sprang aside, quick as a flash ; the spear 
Hiss'd, and went quivering down into the sand. 
Which it sent flying wide ; — then Sohrab threw 
In turn, and full struck Rustum's shield ; sharp rang, 
The iron plates rang sharp, but turn'd the spear. 
And Rustum seized his club, which none but he 
Could wield. 

— Sohrab and Rustum. M. Arnold. 

Girl ! nimble with thy feet, not with thy hands ! 
Curl'd minion, dancer, coiner of sweet words! 
Fight, let me hear thy hateful voice no more. 

— Ibid. 

Thou art not in Afrasiab's garden now 

With Tartar girls, with whom thou art wont to dance ; 

But on the Oxus sands, and in the dance 

Of battle, and with me, who make no play 

Of war ; I fight it out, and hand to hand. 

Speak not to me of truce, and pledge, and wine ! 

Remember all thy valor ; try thy feints 

And cunning ! all the pity I had is gone ; 

Because thou hast shamed me before both the hosts 

With thy light skipping tricks, and thy girl's wiles. 

— Ibid. 

The armaments which thunderstrike the walls of rock-built cities. 
Bidding nations quake, and monarchs tremble in their capitals ; 
The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make their clay creator 
The vain title take of lord of thee, and arbiter of war, — 
These are thy toys; and as the snowy flake they melt into thy 

yeast of waves. 
Which mar alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar, 

—Byron. 



THE CRITERION OF FORCE 109 

EXAMPLES ILLUSTRATING THE USE OF FINAL STRESS.* 

I wonH! 

No, sir ; I am not guilty. 

Away, slight man ! 

Must I budge? Must I observe you? 

I am astonished, sJwcked, to hear such principles avowed in this 
house. 

Cassius. Ye gods! ye gods! Must I endure all this? 
Brutus. All this? Ay, more. 

Shylock. May I speak with Antonio? 

Bassanio. If it please you to dine with us. 

Shylock. Yes, to smell pork; to eat of the habitation which 
your prophet the Nazarite conjured the Devil into. I will buy 
with you, sell with you, talk with you, walk with you, and so fol- 
lowing; but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray 
with you. — The Merchant of Venice, Act i., Sc. 3. 

Salarino. Why, I am sure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not take 
his flesh: What's that good for? 

Shylock. To bait fish withal : if it will feed nothing else, it 
will feed my revenge. He hath disgraced me, and hinder 'd me 
half a million: laugh' d at my losses, mock'd at my gains, scorned 
my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine 
enemies; and what's his reason? I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew 
eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, 
passions? fed with the same food, hurt vvith the same weapons, 
subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed 
and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is? If 
you prick us, do Ave not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if 
you poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not 
revenge? — The Merchant of Venice, Act iii., Sc. 1. 

* A few words are italicized in order to draw attention to the places 
where we should be likely to use this stress. Observe, too, how the 
stress impresses us with the desire of the speaker to push away oppo- 
sition. 



110 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

WORCESTEE. Those same noble Scots, 

That are your prisoners, — 

Hotspur. I'll keep them all; 

By heaven, he shall not have a Scot of them. 
No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not. 
I'll keep them, by this hand. 

Worcester. You start away, 

And lend no ear unto my purposes. — 
Those prisoners you shall keep. 

Hotspur. Nay, I will; that's flat. — 

He said, he would not ransom Mortimer ; 
Forbade my tongue to speak of Mortimer ; 
But I will find him when he lies asleep, 
And in his ear I'll holla — Mortimer! 
Nay, 

I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak 
Nothing but Mortimer, and give it him. 
To keep his anger still in motion. 

— King Henry IV., Part I., Act i., Sc, 3. 

And now, go bring your sharpest torments. The woes I see 
impending over this guilty realm shall be enough to sweeten 
death, though every nerve and artery were a shooting pang. I die! 
but my death shall prove a proud triumph ; and, for every drop of 
blood ye from my veins do draw, your own shall flow in rivers. 
Woe to thee, Carthage ! Woe to the proud city of the waters ! I 
see thy nobles wailing at the feet of Eoman senators ! thy citizens 
in terror! thy ships in flames! I hear the victorious shouts of 
Rome ! I see her eagles glittering on thy ramparts. Proud city, 
thou art doomed ! The curse of God is on thee — a clinging, wasting 
curse. It shall not leave thy gates till hungry flames shall lick the 
fretted gold from off thy proud palaces, and every brook runs 
crimson to the sea. — Regulus to the Carthaginians. Kellogg. 

examples illustrating the use of median stress. 

Arise, shine ; for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is 
risen upon thee. 

For, behold, darkness shall cover the earth, and gross darkness 
the people : but the Lord shall arise upon thee, and his glory shall 
be seen upon thee. 



THE CRITERION OF FORCE 111 

And nations shall come to thy light, and kings to the brightness 
of thy rising. 

Lift up thine eyes round about, and see : they all gather them- 
selves together, they come to thee ; thy sons shall come from far, 
and thy daughters shall be nursed at thy side. 

Then thou shalt see, and be lightened, and thine heart shall 
tremble and be enlarged ; because the abundance of the sea shall be 
unto thee, the wealth of the nations shall come unto thee. 
— Isa. Ix. 1-5. 

Thou kingly Spirit throned among the hills, 
Thou dread ambassador from earth to heaven. 
Great hierarch ! tell thou the silent sky. 
And tell the stars, and tell yon rising sun, 
Earth, with her thousand voices, praises God. 

— Coleridge. 

The Lord reigneth ; he is appareled with majesty ; 

The Lord is apj)areled, he hath girded himself with strength : 

The world also is stablished that it cannot be moved. 

Thy throne is established of old : 

Thou art from everlasting. 

The floods have lifted up, O Lord. 

The floods have lifted up their voice ; 

The floods lift up their waves. 

Above the voices of many waters. 

The mighty breakers of the sea. 

The Lord on high is mighty. 

Thy testimonies are very sure : 

Holiness becometh thine house, 

O Lord, for evermore. — Ps. xciii. 1-5. 

He was a man, take him for all in all, 
I shall not look upon his like again. 

. — Hamlet, Act i., Sc. 2. 

This was the noblest Roman of them all. 



His life was gentle ; and the elements 

So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up 

And say to all the world, TMs was a man! 

— Julius Caesar, Act v. , Sc. 5. 



112 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

For even then, Sir, even before this splendid orb was entirely set, 
and while the western horizon was in a blaze with his descending 
glory, on the opposite quarter of the heavens arose another lumi- 
nary, and, for his hour, became lord of the ascendant. . . , And I 
did see in that noble person such sound principles, such an 
enlargement of mind, such clear and sagacious sense, and such 
unshaken fortitude, as have bound me, as well as others much 
better than me, by an inviolable attachment to him from that time 
forward. ... I stood near him ; and his face, to use the expression 
of the Scripture of the first martyr — his face was as if it had been 
the face of an angel. I do not know how others feel ; but if I had 
stood in that situation, I never would have exchanged it for all that 
kings in their profusion could bestow. I did hope that that day's 
danger and honor would have been a bond to hold us all together 
forever. —Burke. 

O, sing unto the Lord a new song : 

Sing unto the Lord, all the earth. 

Sing unto the Lord, bless his name ; 

Show forth his salvation from day to day. 

Declare his glory among the nations. 

His marvelous w^orks among all peoples. 

For great is the Lord, and highly to be praised : 

He is to be feared above all gods. 

For all the gods of the people are idols : 

But the Lord made the heavens. 

Honor and majesty are before him: 

Strength and beauty are in his sanctuary. 

Ps. xcvi., 1-6. 

Ho ! gallant nobles of the League, look that your arms be bright ! 
Ho ! burghers of St. ..Genevieve, keep watch and ward to-night ! 
For our God hath crushed the tyrant, our God hath raised the slave, 
And mocked the counsel of the wise, and the valor of the brave. 
Then glory to his holy name, from whom all glories are ; 
And glory to our sovereign lord. King Henry of Navarre. 

—The Battle of Ivry. Macaulay. 

PEDAGOGICAL ASPECTS. 

These aspects, having been dwelt upon at some length in the 
preceding discussion, may be dismissed with, a few words. 



THE CRITERION OF FORCE 113 

The knowledge of the psychology of Force and Stress is to 
serve as a standard of criticism, not as a foundation for 
mechanical drills. There is a school of reading pedagogy, 
with lamentably extended sway, that argues, since there are 
found various kinds of stress in our speech, therefore we must 
drill our pupils on these. Nothing could be farther from the 
truth. Stress denotes a state of mind. If our philosophy of 
stress is sound, it should teach us that the mental state finds 
instinctive expression in one form of stress or another, and 
consequently we must get the state before we can get the stress. 
We miglit add that this is true of Time, Pitch, and Quality, 
as well as of Stress. 

Do not tell a child to read louder. If you do, you will get 
loudness — that awful, grating schoolboy loudness — without a 
particle of expression in it. Many a child reads well, but is 
bashful. When we tell him to read louder, he braces himself 
for the effort and kills the quality, which is the finer breath 
and spirit of oral expression, and gives us a purely physical 
thing — ^f orce. Put your weak -voiced readers on the platform ; 
let them face the class and talk to you, seated in the middle 
of the room, and you will get all the force you need. On the 
whole, we have too much force rather than too little. Let 
the teacher learn that we want quality, not quantity, and our 
statement of the mental action behind force will be of much 
benefit in creating the proper conditions. 



PART TWO 



METHOD OF INSTEUCTION 



CHAPTER V 

THE MENTAL ATTITUDE OF THE READER 

In our knowledge of the psychology of the elements of 
expression, we have the solution of the difficulties resulting 
from the complexity and intangibility of vocal expression. 
The teacher now knows what to look for, and hence is enabled 
to diagnose the case. There is now the second step to be 
taken in the development of the teacher: he must have 
method. It can hardly be claimed that there is any definite 
progression in our instruction. In the primary grades, the 
pupils learn the letters, their sounds, and a meagre amount 
of expression. After that the teaching is haphazard. This is 
not the case with arithmetic or history, or geography; why 
should it be so in reading? The answer is clear. For many 
reasons, not difficult to ascertain, the child has a vague idea 
that reading is simply vocal utterance; that his work as a 
reader is done when he has pronounced the words. This state 
of mind may be attributed, first, to his primary training, and, 
second, to the perfunctoriness of the reading lesson in the 
grammar grades. We seem to be satisfied, in the beginning, 
if a pupil learns to recognize and pronounce words. This is a 
serious error. We should never for a moment forget that our 
purpose in giving pupils the ability to recognize words is to 
enable them to extract the thought from the printed page. 
Hence, from the outset, as was enjoined in the Introduction, 
we should lay the least possible stress upon word-getting, and, 
contrariwise, all possible stress on thought-getting. If the 
primary teachers should succeed in developing the state of 
mind that would cause the pupils to go to the printed page as 

117 



118 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

they go to the feet of one who has a story to tell, we should be 
willing to ask for nothing else of them as a result of all their 
teaching. 

But let us accept reading as we find it to-day, and let us 
suppose the pupil is about ten or eleven years of age. What 
is the first step? To impress upon him that the printed page 
is a picture; that it contains ideas, sights, sounds; that it 
takes the place of the author, and that he must listen to it as 
to the voice of the author. This is the all-important factor. 
Many of us think we are following this plan, when, in reality, 
we defeat our ends by the way we use the means. We allow 
slovenly reading and pass over the grossest carelessness ; so 
that, unconsciously, the pupil forms the loosest habits of 
expression. Then the pupil must be stimulated to hold the 
thought; to let it hold him, if you will. This, too, is a very 
necessary part of the training. The defective reading of 
preachers and authors is not due to the fact that they cannot 
get the thought, but that they are not dwelling upon it in 
detail while reading. The third stage in the first step is to 
train the pupil so that he will never get up to read without 
the consciousness that he has something to give. Let the 
pupils, and, first of all, the teacher, close their books, and so 
give the poor reader some encouragement. Do not have him 
read to the backs of the class. How should we like to addi'ess 
an audience of inexpressive backs? The following of this last 
suggestion will produce wonderful results, and quickly too. 
But it has another value : it compels the class to think, to fol- 
low the reader, to get thought through the ear (a talent 
becoming rarer every day), and, above all, it stimulates the 
imagination. Summarized, the first step means, Get the 
tliought, liold the thought^ give the thought. Keep at this for 
a month, if necessary. 

The one object of this lesson is to impress upon the mind 



THE MENTAL ATTITUDE OF THE READER 119 

of the pupil that words have no meaning unless they stimulate 
thought. It is, perhaps, needless to add that the teacher 
should be on his guard against teaching inflections and pauses 
and the like, as sach. No other aim should be held in mind 
than that of getting the pupil to see clearly and to express 
forcibly. 

The teacher should use constantly such criticism as, "Is 
that the thought?" or, "Won't you tell that to me?" This 
method will soon set the pupil to thinking. It will gi^adually 
impress upon him the true function of the reading lesson. 
There will soon disappear that di'eadful perfunctoriness so 
characteristic of class-room reading. How much prepai'ation 
does the pupil now give to his reading? Practically none. 
He prepares those lessons in which he gradually learns he can 
be definitely tested: his arithmetic, spelling, composition, 
geography. Then, if he has any time, he may look over his 
reading lesson to discover if there are any "hard" words, and 
when he has mastered these he thinks his work is done. But 
let us remember that such preparation is by no means 
adequate. There are passages in every lesson which require 
patient study, even though each word may be simple. Words 
in themselves mean little; it is words in relation that we 
must study. 

This first step includes all the others. It may be asked 
then, "Why are there others?" The subsequent chapters 
will deal with this question, but it may be explained here that 
the pm^pose of this first step is to create and make permanent 
the proper atmosphere of the reading hom\ The criticisms 
should be general, not particular, and the teacher should be 
cai'efulto offer no discom*aging criticism. Every effort should 
be made to stimulate the pupil. He should be urged to get 
the thought, and especially impressed with the idea that the 
class depends upon him for their understanding of the text. 



120 READING IK THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Choose selections from all sources — from the history lesson, 
and from the geography lesson. Let these selections be fairly 
simple, and above all, vital and interesting. Barlara Friet- 
cMe^ Longfellow's Peace- Pipe from Hiaivatlia^ and Brown- 
ing's Ride from Ghent to Aix, or The Pied Piper ^ and even 
shorter extracts of prose or poetry, are excellent material. 
Give out a dozen of these, let each pupil learn one by heart, 
and tell it, — not declaim it, — to his classmates. 

Let the teacher not worry because this process is slow and 
threatens to leave the work outlined for a given term incom- 
plete. It is not the quantity but the quality we are after. 
But by this method we shall in time cover more ground than 
we now do in a given period. If we continually offer such 
criticism as will impress the pupil that thought -getting is 
everything, that reading is but the expression of that thought, 
he will go to his history, and geography, and arithmetic lesson 
for thought ; so that the time spent in the reading hour is 
virtually just the training for every other lesson. Finally, 
this is the true preparation for the making of sight -readers. 
It is true, one should be able to read better after some prepara- 
tion than he does at sight ; but everyone should be able, by the 
time he leaves the public school, to read any ordinary passage 
at sight without blundering. The mental attitude formed by 
the method urged will cause the student to approach the 
printed page warily, prepared to deal with its difficulties, and 
will thus produce better reading. 

A word to those who ride the sight-reading hobby too hard. 
It is only the experienced reader who can read well at sight. 
To ask an immature pupil to read at sight is to do one of two 
things : if he is timid, it frightens him ; if he is a poor reader 
it simply fastens the careless habits upon him,^ by leading him 
to believe, by implication, that reading is merely pronuncia- 
tion. In the upper grades, there should be sight-reading, 



THE MENTAL ATTITUDE OF THE READER 121 

but only where tlie previous training has been methodical. 
It is well to giye the class a chance to read over the selection 
for a few minutes before the test is made. 

Each teacher must decide for himself how he will develop 
the foregoing principles. The following plan, however, 
representing the actual work of a teacher before his class, will 
be suggestive : 

We are going to study how to read ; and the first thing we must 
know is, What is reading? 

Now, before we answer this question, let us try to get an answer 
to another : What is speaking? Speaking is telhng someone what 
I am thinking or feehng. So, if you were in the author's school, he 
could tell you the thoughts he has. But you are not, and so he 
must write them. Now we are ready to answer the question, What 
is reading? Reading is getting thought from the printed or written 
page. 

Let us go a little further. Suppose a writer wants to say some- 
thing to you through the printed page, what does he do? He first 
thinks over very carefully what he has to say, and then chooses 
and writes the words that will give you his meaning. But remem- 
ber, you must study his words and think about them as carefully 
as he did when he wrote them. 

Have you been attentive so far? Let us see. Can you tell me 
what speaking is? what reading is? If you can not, do you not 
see you have not been paying attention? 

Getting thought from the printed page should be just like 
listening carefully to speaking. Yes, you must be more careful in 
reading, because the author is not here to explain things to you, 
or to repeat his words. You have only the printed words, and if 
you do not listen very carefully to what they say, you will not 
understand him. Now let us see whether this is clear. Here is a 
sentence ; can you see what I see? ' 'The next day, which was 
Saturday, the king called his generals and some of his friends to the 
royal tent, and told them, in a quiet voice, that at daybreak on 
Tuesday he was going to return to London and give up the war." 

Now take your eyes off the blackboard and tell us all you saw, 
and tell it in just the order the pictures occur on the board. If you 



122 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

miss any steps, you must read again and again until you see the 
whole thought so clearly that it seems real ; then I am sure you will 
be able to tell it correctly. You need not use my words ; just use 
your own language. 

Now you are ready to take the next step. Read the sentence to 
the class so that you make them see just what you see. Be sure 
you never forget this. 

You must remember that unless you try to make them see the 
pictures you have in mind, they will be very likely not to under- 
stand you. 

Now, what have we been doing? First, we studied the meaning 
of the words ; second, we got several pictures ; and third, we tried 
to give those pictures to others. So we see there are two kinds of 
reading : the first for ourselves, the second for others. The first kind 
must always go before the second: for if we have nothing in 
our mind to tell, how can we give it to others? 

Let us remember then, that reading for others is just like talk- 
ing to them, and unless we get from the page just the thought the 
writer had in mind we cannot give that thought to another. Some- 
times it is not easy to get this thought ; but if you will study care- 
fully, it will become clearer and clearer, until at last it is just as 
easy to understand as if it had been your own. I want to give you a 
short drill, and then our first lesson will be over. "In the summer 
the grass is green, but it turns brown in the fall. ' ' Can you im- 
agine how green grass looks? how brown grass looks? Do you 
notice that fall is the time when grass is brown? Again, "He was 
a very tall man, with light, curly hair, tanned skin and blue eyes. 
His shoulders were stooped like those of a farmer or of one who has 
been digging in the mines." Close your eyes and then call up the 
picture of this man. Do you see him as a real man? Now read 
this sentence aloud so that your classmates may get the same 
picture that you have. 

These are the three things we have learned in our first lesson, 
and they are very, very important : We must get the thought ; we 
must hold the thought; and we must give the thought. This is 
reading aloud. 

Remember, I want you to be getting these pictures from 
everything you read; from your geography lesson, your history 
lesson, and even your arithmetic lesson. I am sure you will get 
these lessons better than you ever did before. 



THE MENTAL ATTITUDE OF THE READER 123 

Here are some interesting stories and parts of stories which you 
must tell to the class. Be sure you understand them, and then tell 
them so that your classmates will understand them too. 

* Keep busy ! 'tis better than standing aside 
And dreaming, and sighing, and waiting the tide. 
In life's earnest battle, they only prevail 
Who daily march onward, and never say fail. 

There's a rogue at play in my sunlit room, 

And scarcely he rests from fun ; 
Floor, window, shelf, or closet's gloom 

All are to him as one. 

He opens the books and peeps within, 

The paper turns inside out, 
Snatches my thread, and thinks no sin 

To throw my work about. 

He clutches the curtains and whisks them down, 

Then pulls at the picture cords, 
Tosses my hair in the way of his own. 

Nor heeds my coaxing words. 

I wonder if one so glad and young 

Will ever be prim and old? 
He answers not, for he has no tongue — 

Yet tells sweet tales as are told. 

He climbs the walls, yet has no feet ; 

No wings, but flies the same ; 
No hands, no head, but breath so sweet — 

For West Wind is his name. 

In closing this chapter, it should be remarked that the time 
to be spent on this and subsequent steps depends upon the 
circumstances. In the lower grades more time will be neces- 
sary than in the upper. If the teacher of the eighth grade 

* other examples should be found by the teacher. With a little care 
much valuable material may be selected. 



124 BEADING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

(the highest) wishes to devote some time to teaching read- 
ing, he should make a careful study of the needs of the 
class, and then use such of the steps, and in such order, as 
are most likely to meet those needs. In the lower classes it 
is suggested that the teacher follow in a general way the plan 
set forth in this book. About one step a month is all that a 
pupil can grasp. After he has the principle, let the teacher 
take up the regular reading lesson, laying special stress upon 
the principles already covered. 

* It is believed that the reading lessons contained in this series 
are the first attempt to present in an orderly and philosophic 
manner the difficulties the pupils have in learning to read. 

There is very little doubt that the reading lesson hardly pays for 
the time spent upon it. All authorities are agreed that, except in 
rare cases, pupils do not read any better at the end of the school year 
than they do at the beginning, except that they may pronounce 
with a little more facility or are possessed of a somewhat wider 
vocabulary. In many class rooms, reading becomes a lesson in 
composition, spelling, definition, and the like. 

The method in vogue in certain districts of telling pupils about 
Inflections, and Time, and Kinds of Emphasis, is certainly faulty. 
On the other hand, very little more progress has been made by 
those who, in a very general and vague manner, tell the pupil to 
get the thought. As a result of the methods heretofore in use, it has 
been found impossible for the teacher in any given grade to deter- 
mine how much real knowledge of reading a pupil has who has 
just been promoted from a lower grade. 

In the lessons here presented, it is impressed upon the pupil not 
only that he must get the thought, but he is shown how to get it. 
The various difficulties of reading are presented one at a time, and 
further, are so graded that the least difficult shall precede the more 
complex. It is well known that the reading lesson, as a reading 
lesson, gets little or no preparation by the pupils. By the method 
here laid down careful preparation is a necessity ; and the lesson 

*From the introduction to the author's " How to Eead Aloud," which 
is out of print. All the essential features, however, are included in the 
present work. 



THE MENTAL ATTITUDE OF THE READER 125 

which, as a rule, is very ill prepared, may now be studied at home 
with a very definite object in view, and more important still, the 
pupil can be held responsible for definite results. 

It must be remembered that the young pupil knows nothing of 
inflections, emphasis, etc., and cares still less about them. While 
the teacher may be thoroughly conversant with the whole range 
of vocal technique in reading, he should try to avoid the use of 
technical terms with the pupils, especially with the younger ones. 
This is the very essence of the present method, which is based upon 
a well-established psychological law : If the thought is right, the 
expression will be right. Talking to pupils about technique, only 
confuses them and in many cases results in gross affectations. The 
mind is taken from the thought to the form of its expression. We 
must remember that shyness, and other forms of self -consciousness 
(which so often mar the reading) are really but signs that the 
pupil's mental action is awry. The reading may be more quickly 
and more permanently improved by eradicating the self-conscious- 
ness than by resorting to technical drills. Make the pupil want to 
read, and the chances are strongly in favor of his losing self- 
consciousness. 

While it is not possible in the space allotted the author of these 
articles to give the fullest possible instruction, yet these lessons will 
serve a definite purpose by presenting to the pupils, in a rational 
order, the various difliculties everyone has to overcome in learning 
to read. There may be certain phases of technique that a teacher 
may miss in this series of lessons, but it is certain, that if they are 
carefully taught, the pujjils Avill improve not only along the partic- 
ular line laid down in each lesson, but along the whole line of 
reading in general. 

This method is introduced in the hope that the measure of a 
pupil's progress will not be gauged by the number of selections he 
reads in a given period. It is better to prepare carefully and philo- 
sophically six or eight lessons in one-half of the school year, than to 
endeavor to cover three times as many in the usual hurried fashion. 
The teacher may be sure that when the first six or eight lessons are 
thus carefully prepared, the progress thereafter will be more rapid. 
There is no doubt that the pupil who will spend two years in this 
graded work will be able to read any ordinary selection with ease, 
and with pleasure to the Ustener. 

It is urged (1) that the teacher use additional examples under 



126 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

each new principle, in order that the pupil may have the principle 
impressed upon him by selecting new examples for himself and by 
reading them aloud in class; (2) that the same lesson be repeated 
as many times, with the same or new illustrations, as may be 
necessary to assure the teacher that the class has thoroughly 
grasped the spirit of the lesson; and (3) that the teacher insist 
upon most careful and adequate preparation. So, and so only, can 
we hope to teach reading. 

The main objects of the first lessons are two. First ; to develop 
what may be termed the logical side of reading ; in other words, 
the intellectual side. The greatest stress should be laid on getting 
the sense, which is, of course, the basis of all reading. The 
emotional side need not be altogether neglected, but should be 
always subsidiary to the intellectual. If the teacher succeed in 
getting the expression vital, nothing more should be expected. To 
get the sense and to express it with earnestness is the first step. 
Second ; the teacher is urged not to follow mechanically the order 
of the general reading lessons. If Lesson XX offer a better 
opportunity than, let us say, Lesson X for illustrating the principle 
laid down in any of the special lessons, the former should be used, 
no matter what the preceding general lesson may have been. The 
teacher should be acquainted with the pedagogical possibilities of 
all the general lessons, and should use such, irrespective of their 
place in the book, as are best adapted at the moment to assist the 
pupils in mastering the principle in any given special reading les- 
son. I have found much good in keeping a little note-book on the 
following plan: I give a page to each of the steps, and every 
example I come across, no matter in what book— history, geography, 
reader— is noted. Thus: 

EXAMPLES OF CONTRAST. 

Book. Page. Paragraph. 

's History, 350 3 

's '' 109 1 

Reader (3) 87 8 

In this way, the teacher has always plenty of illustrative matter 
on hand. 

While not in entire sympathy with the method that compels 
teachers to cover a certain number of reading lessons in a given 



THE MENTAL ATTITUDE OF THE READER 127 

time, yet I am sensible that it would be useless to attempt to 
change all this at once. Recognizing the futility of such an effort, 
I advise the teacher to conform to this arbitrary and unscientific 
method until the community is educated to the newer method. 
The best results may be obtained, under the circumstances, by 
following some such plan as this : Begin with the first special lesson 
as soon as possible. Then, having dwelt on that as long as neces- 
sary, pass to the regular reading lessons, bearing in mind that 
until the second special lesson, the principle of the first should be 
constantly reiterated. For the entire time (say a month) between 
the first and second special lessons let the teacher revert to the 
former again and again. Let the corrections be made over and 
over by asking such questions as. "Is that the way you would say 
it if you were talking?" or, "You are not trying to make us see 
the picture," and so on. After the second special lesson has been 
taken up in class, and before the third, the endeavor of a teacher 
should be to enforce the principles of the first two lessons. This 
plan should be kept up imtil the last lesson has been taught. 



CHAPTEE VI 



GEOUPING 



If the work of the first step has been carefully done, the 
transition to the second step will present few difficulties. As 
a matter of fact, the pupil has been grouping unconsciously, 
but in a way more or less uncertain. The purpose of the next 
step is to fix firmly the habit of grouping. As a general rule, 
the pupil pronounces as many words in one group as his eye 
can take in and his voice utter ; consequently, his reading is 
choppy and often meaningless. 

At the outset care should be exercised in the choice of 
extracts. Any extract will not do. Simple passages, with 
simple ideas, are needed. Avoid complex, involved, inverted 
rhetoric. Later on, when proper habits have been formed, 
the difficulties may be increased ; but we shall meet only with 
discouragement if we introduce them too soon. The following 
is just difficult enough to bring out the efforts of an ordi- 
nary child of ten or eleven : 

Once upon a time there lived a very rich man, and a king besides, 
whose name was Midas ; and he had a little daughter, whom nobody 
but myself ever heard of, and whose name I either never knew, or 
have entirely forgotten. So, because I love odd names for little 
girls, I choose to call her Mary gold.— T/ie Golden Touch. Haw- 
thorne. 

The teacher should use a great many isolated extracts. 
These may not be so interesting as entire selections, but if 
chosen carefully and read with a definite object, it is surprising 
how they hold the attention of the class. It may also be pos- 

128 



GROUPING 129 

sible to find short stories to supplement the extracts. Many 
good extracts may be found in the reader or even in some of 
the other books the children are using. 

The reason for urging this plan is that few reading books 
present the difficulties of reading, in a rational, graded man- 
ner. Any selection may contain the simplest problem and the 
most difficult in one paragraph. The pupil must be trained 
to get his ideas from the printed page in groups, and such 
training can surely be gained better by using carefully selected 
passages than by the present aimless wandering among a 
labyrinth of words. It is admitted that a good teacher of 
reading may be able to get along without calling the attention 
of the class to grouping as a definite step ; but he must cer- 
tainly have that step in mind as part of the development of a 
reader. 

In this lesson we begin exercises in what might be called 
* 'mental technique." It must be borne in mind that these 
lessons are planned with the object of presenting one element 
at a time, and the pupil must not be expected to read well 
where he has had no previous drill. In this lesson, therefore, 
the pupil should be held responsible for what he has learned 
in the first and second lessons only. It must further be 
remembered that all corrections should be made by putting 
such questions as, "Is that the whole picture?" or, "Have 
you not given us more than one picture?" Never tell a pupil 
to make a pause here or a pause there, or to read faster or 
more slowly. Such corrections are useless. We must learn 
to rely upon the thinking to govern the rate of speed, or the 
length and frequency of the pauses. 

It might be well to bear in mind that in colloquial speech 
pauses are less frequent. In other words, the groups are 
longer. 

As a result of such training as the pupil gets in this lesson 



130 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

we shall note that he will learn to look ahead, and so rid him- 
self of the too general tendency to utter words as soon as he 
sees them, regardless of the sense. The process of recognizing 
words and pronouncing them simultaneously is attended with 
no small amount of danger. It begets a fatal facility in read- 
ing that is a positive detriment to the pupil. There are thou- 
sands who read glibly and yet are utterly ignorant of the 
meaning of what they read. To prevent the formation of 
such a habit or to break it up where it already exists, there is 
no better plan than that herein advocated for the study of 
grouping. It need hardly be said that the method of telling 
a pupil "to pause before a relative pronoun, inverted adjec- 
tives, prepositional phrases," and the like, is virtually useless. 
The thought, and not the grammatical construction, deter- 
mines the pause. 

Another suggestive lesson for the teaching of grouping is 
offered : 

You remember that in our last lesson we learned that we must 
first get the thought before we could read. Now we are to study 
how to get the thought. 

Did you ever notice how you think? If you hear the word 
"Car," what do you think of? Some, of a horse car, some, of an 
electric car, and some, of a steam car. So you see the word "Car" 
by itself does not give us a very clear picture. The words, "I 
saw, ' ' do not mean very much either. For unless we know what you 
saw we get nothing to think about. The two words "in a" do not 
mean much, and by this time you know why. 

Let us put all these words together and add a word or two: "I 
saw a man in a steam car. ' ' Now we have a clear picture. What 
do we learn from this? We learn that a single word does not give 
us a clear picture, and that it takes three, and four, and sometimes 
many words, to give us a picture. We can think "I saw a man" or 
"in a steam car," but we get a complete thought only when we 
put these two groups of words together. We notice also that 
while it takes just a moment to see a picture, it often takes many 
words to describe it. 



GROUPING 131 

What we have done is called grouping ; that is, reading several 
words together just as we read the syllables of a word. Let us try 
some examples. "Charles gave a sled to his brother." Here there 
are two groups: One ending at "sled," the other, at "brother." "I 
went to King Street with my sister to buy a new hat." Here we 
have three groups. Can you pick them out? 

The last thing we are to learn in this lesson is that every group 
of words has a picture in it, and that we must not read aloud any 
word until we have got the thought or the picture in the group. 

Pick out the groups in the following sentence, and then read 
aloud, but be sure you pay attention to the picture in each group : 
' 'When-our-school-closes f or-the-su m m er- vacation, some-of -us-go-to- 
the-country, others-go-to-the-lakes, some-go-to-the-mountains, and- 
many stay-in-the-city. " 

For to-morrow's lesson * I want you to bring in the groups in the 
following examples, putting hyphens between the words of each 
group, just as we did in the sentence about the summer vacation. 

*The teacher should select the examples, not too many, and write 
them on the board ; or they may be selected from the reader. Drills of 
this kind should be continued until correct habits are formed, but 
should cease before the pupils become tired of them. 



CHAPTER VII 



SUCCESSIOlSr OF IDEAS 



The next step is but a very short one in advance of the 
second, and yet one of exceeding importance. It deals with 
the succession of ideas. Every long sentence is made up of 
email phrases more or less intimately connected. The inflec- 
tion denotes this connection. If several phrases point forward 
to a thought further on, the end of each of these will be 
marked by a rising inflection ; if any one of the phrases be 
of sufficient importance to demand j^articular emphasis, its 
end will be marked by the falling inflection. 

As was said in Chapter II, the reading of a long sentence 
presents great difficulties for the child. He loses himself in 
the maze of words, and his mental condition is clearly shown 
in his melody, which drifts about here and there, like a rud- 
derless ship. It is the purpose of this step to train him in the 
development of his powers of continuous thinking ; to enable 
him to keep in mind the main idea, no matter how numerous 
the details. This step and that dealing with subordinate 
ideas have much the same object in view. 

The following excerpt from the Introduction to The Song 
of Hiaiuatha is a good illustration of a sentence in which the 
sense is suspended through many lines : 

Ye, who sometimes, in your rambles 
Through the green lanes of the country, 
Where the tangled barberry-bushes 
Hang their tufts of crimson berries 
Over stone walls gray with mosses. 
Pause by some neglected graveyard. 
For a while to muse, and ponder 
133 



SUCCESSION OF IDEAS 133 

On a half -effaced inscription, 
* Written with little skill of song-craft, 

Homely phrases, but each letter 
Full of hope and yet of heart-break, 
Full of all the tender pathos 
Of the Here and the Hereafter ; — 
Stay and read this rude inscription, 
Read this Song of Hiawatha ! 

It is in sentences like the following that the pupil is likely 
to fail. Speaking of rain, the poet says : 

How it clatters along the roofs, 

Like the tramp of hoofs ! 

How it gushes and struggles out 

From the throat of the overflowing spout ! 

There may be some justification for the falling inflection 
on "roofs"; there can be no doubt that the same inflection 
would be incorrect on "out. " And yet, the very structure of 
the verse would be likely to cause the careless reader to read 
it with that very inflection. This is a typical case, and, if 
this point has been made clear, one that should be very helpful 
to the teacher. The following passage, from the same poem, 
affords another exercise in succession of ideas; 

In the country, on every side. 

Where far and wide. 

Like a leopard's tawny and spotted hide, 

Stretches the plain. 

To the dry grass and the drier grain 

How welcome is the rain ! 

Let us observe that the plain does not stretch to the diy 
grass. There will ba a falling inflection on ''plain," and a 
rising on "grain." 

The pause has nothing to do with succession of ideas. It 



134 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

would make little difference how long the pause after "plain" 
if it were read with a rising inflection. This principle must 
never be lost sight of. 

Pupils who should know better frequently make mistakes 
of the kind we have been discussing, in reading the following 
passage : 

In the furrowed land 

The toilsome and patient oxen stand ; 

Lifting the yoke-encumbered head. 

With their dilated nostrils spread, 

They silently inhale 

The clover-scented gale, 

And the vapors that arise 

From the well-watered and smoking soil. 

For this rest in the furrow after toil 

Their large and lustrous eyes 

Seem to thank the Lord, 

More than man's spoken word. 



Near at hand, 

From under the sheltering trees. 

The farmer sees 

His pastures, and his fields of grain. 

As they bend their tops 

To the numberless beating drops 

Of the incessant rain. 



The following extracts from Gulliver'' s Travels are within 
the comprehension of fairly young children, and will afford 
good practice : 

1. The empire of Blefuscu is an island situated to the northeast 
of Lilliput, from which it is parted only by a channel eight hundred 
yards wide. 

3. I had not yet seen it, and, upon this notice of a intended inva- 
sion, I avoided appearing on that side of the coast, for fear of being 
discovered by some of the enemy's ships, who had received no intel- 
ligence of me; all intercourse between the two empires having been 



SUCCESSION OF IDEAS 135 

strictly forbidden during the war, upon pain of death, and an 
embargo laid by our emperor upon all vessels whatsoever. 

3. I walked toward the northeast coast, over against Blefuscu, 
where, lying down behind a hillock, I took out my small perspec- 
tive glass and viewed the enemy's fleet at anchor, consisting of 
about fifty men-of-war and a great number of transports, I then 
came back to my house, and gave orders (for which I had a war- 
rant) for a great quantity of the strongest cable and bars of iron. 
The cable was about as thick as pack-thread, and the bars of the 
length and size of a knitting-needle. 

4. I trebled the cable to make it stronger, and for the same 
reason I twisted three of the iron bars together, bending the 
extremities into a hook. Having thus fixed fifty hooks to as many 
cables, I went back to the northeast coast, and putting off my 
coat, shoes and stockings, walked into the sea in my leathern 
jerkin, about half an hour before high water. I waded with what 
haste I could, and swam in the middle about thirty yards, till I felt 
ground. 

5. When I had got out of danger, I stopped awhile to pick out 
the arrows that stuck in my hands and face, and rubbed on some of 
the same ointment that was given me at my first arrival, as I have 
formerly mentioned. I then took off my spectacles, and, waiting 
about an hour, till the tide was a little fallen, I waded through the 
middle with my cargo, and arrived safe at the royal port of Lilliput. 

6. The emperor and his whole court stood on the shore, expecting 
the issue of this great adventure. They saw the ships move for- 
ward in a large half -moon, but could not discern me, who was up to 
my breast in water. When I advanced to the middle of the chan- 
nel, they were yet more in pain, because I was under water to my 
neck. The emperor concluded me to be drowned, and that the 
enemy's fleet was approaching in a hostile manner. 

7. But he was soon eased of his fears ; for, the channel growing 
shallower every step I made, I came in a short time within hearing, 
and, holding up the end of the cable by which the fleet was fastened, 
I cried in a loud voice, "Long hve the most puissant King of Lilli- 
put!" This great prince received me at my landing with all pos- 
sible encomiums, and created me a nardac upon the spot, which is 
the highest title of honor among them. 

It need hardly be noted that there are many examples of 



136 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

momentary completeness in the preceding passages; * as, for 
instance : 

*'Lillipnt," in paragraph one. 

*' Ships," in paragraph two. 

"Anchor," in paragraph three. 

''Arrival," in paragraph five. 

"Me," "pain," in paragraph six. 

"Spot," in paragraph seven. 

It will be seen that the purpose of this step is to draw the 
pnpil's attention to two possibilities in every sentence : Does 
the phrase point forward, or is it momentarily complete? 
Great care must be observed not to confuse him with state- 
ments regarding inflections. 

Momentary completeness has been so fully discussed in a 
preceding chapter that it need not be dwelt upon further. 

The following lesson-talk may be helpful for the teacher : 

Read to yourself this little sentence: "Robert has a slate." Is 
that a complete picture? You see that it is. Now read this sen- 
tence: ** Robert has a slate and a pencil." Here you note that 
Robert has two things, so the sentence is not complete when we 
come to the word "slate." Although we have a clear picture, yet 
we have not the whole picture. How do we know this? In the 
first sentence there was a period after "slate," but in the second 
sentence there was none, and because there wasn't, we kept on read- 
ing and found there was another group of words giving us the pic- 
ture of something else Robert had. Now this teaches us that if we 
want to read just as we speak, we must be careful to get not only 
one picture or two, but all the pictures in the sentence. 

Let me show you how we often make mistakes in our reading 
because we don't pay attention to what I have just shown you. 
Suppose we have this sentence: "I saw a cat, and a mouse, and a 
rat." Now, some pupils are careless and they read, "I saw a cat," 
just as if that were the whole sentence. Then they look a little 
further and see the next group, "and a mouse," and they read 
that. Then they see the rest of the sentence, "and a rat," and they 
read that, But we know that is not the way to read, We must 



SUCCESSION OF IDEAS 137 

first read the whole sentence silently until we get the pictiu*e in 
each group, and then we shall be sure to read the sentence just as 
one of us would speak it if he really saw the cat, the rat, and the 
mouse, at the same time. 

Here is a very good example for you to study. Read it through 
slowly and carefully, and do not try to read it aloud until you see 
clearly the picture in each gi'oup. If you do as I ask, you will get 
a complete picture of the way in which the young soldier prepares 
to go out to battle : 

But when the gray dawn stole into his tent, 
He rose, and clad himself, and girt his sword, 
And took his horseman's cloak, and left his tent. 

Can you not see the young warrior rising from his couch, dress- 
ing himself, girding on his sword, and so forth? If you can, then 
I am sure you will be able to make others see it as a complete 
picture, without breaking it up into many little pieces, just as we 
used to do in the first book. You see, he did not rise and stop ; and 
then dress himself and stop ; and gird his sword and stop ; but one 
action followed the other, just as each car in a long, moving train, 
follows another. Each car is like a group of words, and the whole 
train is like the complete sentence. 



CHAPTER YIII 



THE CEl^TRAL IDEA 



A little reflection must make it manifest that every sen- 
tence, or even phrase, has a central idea. When this idea is 
brought out in vocal expression it is by means of some form of 
emphasis, such as inflection or force or time, and so forth. 
The exact form of the manifestation need not concern us 
here. 

'Now that the pupils have been trained to look for the 
thought, the average sentence will take care of itself as far as 
the leading idea is concerned ; but it must be admitted that 
in the sentence of more than average difficulty we find much 
obscure and more faulty reading, due, no doubt, to ignorance 
of the central idea. It is perhaps not wise in all cases to teach 
this step, as a step, to pupils under eleven years ; but when it 
is taught, great care must be exercised to keep the class from 
forming the habit of pounding out every important word. Be 
this as it may, the attention of teachers should be directed to 
the great importance of such studies as are included in the 
present chapter. Furthermore, there can be no doubt that the 
step may be undertaken in the higher grades and in high 
schools to great advantage. 

Perhaps there is no more severe test of the student's 
apprehension of the meaning than his emphasis — using that 
term in its broadest sense. Determining the central idea 
is essentially a logical process; the student weighs and 
determines the value of every word, and by a process of 
elimination finally fixes upon the exact thought to be con- 
veyed. 

138 



THE CENTRAL IDEA 139 

Rules for emphasis so commonly given are, comparatively, 
of little value. If the student has the thought, his emphasis 
may be trusted to take care of itself; where he has not, the 
rules are confusing and misleading. Mr. Alfred Ayres says 
facetiously, but truly, "There is only one rule for emphasis — 
Gumption." 

It is understood that emphasis has a much wider meaning 
than that of merely making a word stand out distinctly by 
means of force ; it includes any manner of making a thought 
prominent. What we ai*e here studying is simply that form 
of emphasis which is manifested by inflection or force, or 
both. The central idea in colloquial utterance is generally 
made significant through force ; but by far the most sugges- 
tive method, when occasion requires, is through inflection. 
Of course, these two are very often combined in various pro- 
portions. 

In the following illustrations, two classes of examples will 
be noticed. In the first, the central ideas are indicated by 
means of italics and capitals. It is not claimed that some 
other interpretation might not be possible ; but that suggested 
is at least justifiable. The teacher will study these examples 
carefully with the object of determining the reason for the 
marking. In the second list of illustrations, the teacher 
himself will determine the central idea, and manifest it 
through his rendition. 

By following this plan, the teacher's own reading will 
show much improvement, and he will probably learn better 
how to work out the problem with his classes. 

It is to be regi'etted that we have no recognized sym- 
bols for showing shades and degrees of emphasis. The 
teacher will, no doubt, be able to determine for himself 
whether the element of force or that of inflection predomi- 
nates. 



140 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

* There on the dais sat another king 
Wearing his robes, his crown, his SIGNET-RING. 

— King Robert of Sicily. Longfellow. 

Note that "Ms" and "robes" are of about equal impor- 
tance, the former perhaps weighing a little heavier than the 
latter. In the next phrase the inflection on "his" is much 
narrower than on the first "his," while the "crown" becomes 
more important. Finally, the last "his" has no emphasis, 
while the climax of thought and emotion is reached on 
"signet-ring." 

And do you NOW put on your best attire! 

And do you now cull out a holiday? 

And do you now STREW FLOWERS in HIS way 

That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? 

— Julius Caesar, Act i., So. 1. 

Note the climax: "best attire" is weaker than "holiday," 
and it than the strewing of flowers. Conyersely, the 
emphasis on "now" diminishes at each repetition. The con- 
text should be carefully digested. 

I rather tell thee what is to be feared 
Than what I fear. 

— Julius Caesar, Act i., So. 2. 

An actor (?) was once heard to read the above passage, 
putting his emphasis on "thee" and the second "I." How 
illuminating ! 

If 'twere done when 'tis done, then 'twere well 
It were done quickly. 

—Macbeth, Act i., Sc. 7. 



*The sources of most of the following" excerpts are g-iven in order 
that the student may refer to the context when necessary. It is urg-ed, 
however, that, since the extracts are taken from literature quite avail- 
able, the teacher refer to the context as often as possible. 



THE CENTRAL IDEA 141 

The above is a fine illustration of the claim that the study 
of the "Central Idea" is essentially a logical process. Any 
other emphasis is puerile, and yet every other emphasis is 
heard except this. Let us look a little closer. The passage 
beginning with this line resolves itself into this : I am ham- 
pered with doubts and fears ; I can find no rest by day or night 
until I kill the king or resolve to abandon the attempt. But 
if I can be assured that there shall be no after consequences 
here, I'll risk the life to come. Hence, the following para- 
phrase is the equivalent of the first line : If it [the mm^der] 
were out of people's minds, if it were blotted out of recollec- 
tion, consigned to oblivion, when it is committed [when I do 
the murder], then the sooner it is done the better for my peace 
of mind. In a word, if it is all over when it is committed^ 
*'then 'twere well it were done quickly." Many purposely 
avoid repeating the emphasis on "done" because they believe 
the two "done's" are identical in meaning. Xothing could be 
farther from the truth, as shown above. The truth is, this 
line is one of those gi'im plays upon words in which Shake- 
speare is so prolific. It need hardly be added that when 
properly read the sense U^ill be made clear by keeping in mind 
the paraphrase just given. The result will be that the first 
"done" Tsill be read with a very decided falling inflection, 
and the second with a rising circumflex inflection (the mind 
looking forward at the end to the conclusion of the sentence). 
Perhaps to the sensitive student of literature there is another 
argument. Shakespeai'e's vocabulary would indeed have been 
very limited had he found it necessary to use three "done's" 
in the opening line of a most important soliloquy. To one 
who is alive to aesthetic effects, the very fact that Shakespeare 
does use them suggests a more careful analysis, and one soon 
discovers the cause. The play on the words makes the salient 
idea more striking. 



142 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

And flood upon flood hurries on never ending ; and it 
never ivill rest nor from travail be free. 

—The Diver. Schiller-Lytton. 

Macbeth. I dare do all that may become a man ; 
Who dares do more is none. 

Lady Macbeth. What beast was't then 

That made you break this enterprise to me? 

When you durst do it, then you were a man, 

And, to be more than what you were, you would 

Be so much more the man. Nor ti7ne nor place 

Did then adhere, and yet you would make both, 

They have made themselves, and that their fitness now 

Does unmsike you. 

— Macbeth, Act i., Sc. 7. 

... it becomes 
The throned MONARCH better than his CROWN. 

— The Merchant of Venice, Act iv., Sc. 1. 

Why is ''better" not the most significant word? 

Lives of great men all remind us 
We can make our lives sublime. 

— Psalm of Life. Longfellow. 

Why not emphasize "we"? 

. . . perchance to dream ; ay, there's the rub! 
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come. 

— Hamlet, Act iii., Sc. 1. 

*'What" is equivalent to what horrible or awful. 

Cassius. I may do that I shall be sorry for. 
Brutus. You have done that you should be sorry for. 

— Julius Caesar, Act iv., Sc. 3. 

It is the bright day that brings forth the adder, 
And that craves wary walking. 

— Julius Caesar, Act ii., Sc. 1. 

And since the quarrel 
Will bear no color for the thing he is, 
Fashion it thus ; that what he is, augmented, 
Would run to these and these extremities. — Ibid. 



THE CENTRAL IDEA 143 

This reading brings out most clearly the rationale of 

Brutus 's attitude. The soliloquy should be studied in its 

entirety. 

Give me that man 
That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him 
In my hearVs core, ay, in my heart of heart, 

As I do thee. 

— Hamlet, Act iii., Sc. 3. 

This example is used in Fulton and Trueblood's Practical 
Mocution. The authors state: 

It has been a question with the actors which word of the phrase 
\eart of heart should receive the chief emphasis, some claiming the 
;eading should be ''heart of heart," others "heart of heart," still 
others "heart of heart.'" The first seems to us the preferable 
reading, for if the lines read, "I will wear him in my heart's core, 
ay, in the center of it," the case would be clear. Here "center" 
stands in the place of the first "heart." 

She looked down to blush and she looked up to sigh, 
With a smile on her lip and a tear in her eye. 

— Lochinvar. Scott. 

There are those who argue that "lip" and "eye" should 
not be emphasized. This is a serious error. The phrases 
"on her lip" and "in her eye" ai'e elaborative, and hence the 
emphasis is distributed over the entire phrase. If this is 
wrong, we must blame the writer for tautology. But litera- 
ture has many similar examples. Here is another: 

Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him : and put a ring on 
his hand, and shoes on his feet. — Luke xv. 23. 

There is a rule telling us to emphasize words in antithesis. 
In many cases we do so; but these cases would emphasize 
themselves, so to speak. There are, however, many cases of 
rhetorical antithesis where it interferes with the sense to 
emphasize both members of the antithesis, and here the rule 



144 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

steps in to lead astray the pupiL To illustrate: "I am going 
to town to-morrow, but you need not go until the day after.'''' 
Mr. A. Melville Bell has put this very clearly. In his 
Essays and Postscripts on Elocution^ he says : 

The emphasis of contrast falls necessarily on the second of a 
contrasted pair of words, but not necessarily on the first. The first 
word is emphatic or otherwise, according as it is new, or implied 
in preceding thoughts ; but it is not emphatic in virtue of subse- 
quent contrast. A purposed anticipation may give emphasis to 
the first word, but such anticipatory emphasis should not be made 
habitual. 

If the bright blood that fills my veins, transmitted free from 
godlike ancestry, were like the slimy ooze which stagnates in your 
arteries, I had remained at home. 

Is it not clear that the anticipatory emphasis on "my" is 
not only unnecessary, but would, if given, weaken the force of 
the succeeding phrase? 

I have nothing more to say, but the honorable gentleman will no 
doubt speak for hours. 

"What could I do less; what could Ifie do more? 

Messala. It is but change, Titinius; for Octavius 
Is overthrown by noble Brutus' power, 
As Cassius' legions are by Antony. 

Titinius. These tidings will well comfort Cassius. 

Messala. Is not that he that lies upon the ground? 

Titinius. He lies not like the living. Oh my heart ! 

Messala. Is not that he? 

Titinius. No, this was he, Messala, 

But Cassius is no more, — O setting sun! 
As in thy red rays thou dost sink to-night, 
So in his red blood Cassius' day is set ; 
The sun of Rome is set ! Our day is gone ; 
Clouds, dews, and dangers come ; our deeds are done ! 
Mistrust of my success hath done this deed. 

— Julius Caesar, Act v., Sc. 3. 



THE CENTRAL IDEA 145 

It is evident that the speakers have been conversing about 
the two parts of the battle, and Titinius has told his friend 
that Cassius has been overtlirown. To this Messala replies, 
comfortingly, Affairs are balanced, then, etc. The entire 
extract needs and will amply repay most critical study. It 
would be hard to find one containing more difficulties. 

Bassanio. This is no answer, thou unfeeling man, 
To excuse the current of thy cruelty. 

Shylock. I am not bound to please thee with my answer. 
Bassanio. Do all men kill the things they do not love? 
Shylock. Hates any man the thing he would not kill? 
Bassanio. Every offense is not a hate at first. 
Shylock. What! wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee 
twice? 

— Merchant of Venice, Act iv., Sc. 1. 

Duncan. Go, pronounce his present* death, 
And with his former title greet Macbeth. 
Eoss. I'll see it done. 
Duncan. What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath won. 

—Macbeth, Act i., Sc. 3. 

Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none. 

—Macbeth, Act 1., Sc. 3. 

Macbeth. The thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me 
In borrow'd robes? 

Angus. Who was the thane, lives yet. 

— Ibid. 

LiGARius. What's to do? 

Brutus. A piece of work that will make sick men whole. 
LiGARius. But are not some whole that we must make sick? 

— Julius Caesar, Act ii., Sc. 1. 

When beggars die, there are no comets seen ; 

The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes. 

— Julius Caesar, Act ii., Sc. 2. 

♦I. e., instant. 



146 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Brutus. He hath the falling sickness. 
Cassius. No, Caesar hath it not ; but you and I, 
And honest Casca, we have the falling sickness. 

— Julius Caesar, Act i., Sc. 2. 

Romans now 
Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors. 
But, woe the while ! our fathers' minds are dead. 
And we are govern' d with our mothers' spirits. 

— Julius Caesar, Act i., Sc. 3. 

That you do love me, I am nothing jealous ; 
"What you would work me to, I have some aim ; 
How I have thought of this, and of these times, 
I shall recount hereafter ; for this present, 
I would not, so with love I might entreat you, 
Be any further raov'd. What you have said, 
I will consider; what you have to say,"^ 
I will with patience hear, and find a time 
Both meet to hear, and answer such high things. 

— Julius Caesar, Act i., Sc. 2. 

Cowards die many times before their deaths ; 
The valiant never taste of death but once. 

— Julius Caesar, Act ii., Sc 2. 

Flavius. Thou art a cobbler, art thou? 

Citizen. Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl. 

— Julius Caesar, Act i., Sc. 1. 

Sir Peter. Very well, ma'am, very well ! So a husband is to 
have no influence — no authority ! 

Lady Teazle, Authority? No, to be sure! If you wanted 
authority over me, you should have adopted me, and not married 
me; I am sure you were old enough! — The School for Scandal. 
Sheridan. 

We live in deeds, not years ; in thought, not breath ; 
In feelings, not in figures on a dial ; 
We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives. 
Who thinks' most, feels the noblest, acts the best. 

— Festus. Bailey. 

I must be cruel, only to be kind ; 

Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind. 



THE CENTRAL IDEA 147 

Our new heraldry is — hands, not hearts. 

He jests at scars that never felt a wound. 

Friendship was in their looks, but in their hearts there was 
hatred. 

Oh ! the blood more stirs 

To rouse a lion than to start a hare. 

You will find it less easy to uproot faults than choke them by 
gaining virtues. 

A maiden's wrath has two eyes — one blind, the other keener 
than a falcon's. 

The storm that rends the oak uproots the flower. 

But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue. 

Suggestions for a class lesson follow : 

Let us look at the following sentence: "I heard William say 
it." Can you read that sentence now? I should say you could 
not, and my reason is, that you are not quite sure of its meaning. 
Let us see what that meaning is. 

One person might mean that he had heard William say it, but that 
you had not. How would you read the sentence then? Another 
person might mean, "I am sure William said it, for I was there to 
hear him." How would you express that? Again, a third person 
might mean that he was sure George or John had not said it, 
but William. How would you read that? 

We learn from this another reason why we must use great care 
in preparing our reading lesson. You see, if we do not, we shall 
not stop to consider just what the sentence means, and then in 
reading we shall not express the author's meaning. Let us try a 
few more examples. In each make up your mind just what you 
want to say, and then say it as if you meant it. 

Example 1. — "I like geography better than I do history." 
Now, if you have been talking to a friend about the studies you 
like best, and he has just said, "I like geography as well as I do 
history," how would you read the above example? Of course, you 
see that the main idea in your mind would be to tell him that 
you liked geography not only as well as, but better than, history. 
Well then, now you may read the example. 



148 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Example 2. — ''I should rather be a lawyer than a doctor." 
Suppose in this case a friend has said, *'My father wants me to be a 
doctor. ' ' How would you then read the sentence? 

Example 3. — "Queen Victoria has reigned longer than any 
other monarch who ever sat upon the English throne." Suppose 
you are telling this to your classmates, and that you have not been 
talking about Queen Victoria before, but you want only to give 
them a piece of information. 

Let us remember, then, that every sentence has a principal, or, 
as we sometimes say, a central idea. We need be extremely care- 
ful to get that central idea, and if we have been, we notice that 
certain words will stand out very j)rominently in our reading. This 
is true because reading is just like speaking. If some one asks you 
where you are going, and you are going to school, what do you 
think of? You don't think of ea,ch word of your answer ; you think 
only one idea — school. So you say, "I am going to school," and you 
make the word "school" very prominent, or important. "School" 
is the central idea. 

Until our next step I want you to study every sentence of every 
reading lesson, bearing in mind this very important fact regarding 
the central idea. Every sentence has such a central idea, and until 
you have found it you cannot read the sentence. 

Very few directions are necessary except to warn the 
teacher against speaking about the various kinds of emphasis. 
No matter what the kind, the thought will find its natural 
channel if the conditions be right. It is true, that sometimes 
a word is made prominent by inflection (rising, falling, cir- 
cumflex), sometimes by slower time, sometimes by force alone. 
But let us remember, these various forms are the results of 
various forms of thinking. If those are right, correct reading 
will follow. 

It is further worth noting that the best authorities use 
*' emphasis" as signifying any means of making the thought 
stand out. Hence, the teacher is urged not to use the term 
"emphasis" at all. If a pupil err, tell him he has not given 
you the central, or leading, idea. 



CHAPTER IX 



SUBORDIKATIOK 



The analysis for determining the central idea must have 
led the student to discern subordinate ideas. As a rule, the 
expression of these will not be difficult, but there are certain 
phases of subordination that requhe special study. We have 
noted that in our desire to impress the leading thought upon 
another we have used significant inflection, or force or time. 
It must follow then that the relatively unimportant words 
will he read in a manner less striking. In the following 
speech of Portia, observe how naturally we slight the rela- 
tively unimportant ideas : 

If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels 
had been churches, and poor men's cottages princes' palaces. 
It is a good divine that follows his own instructions : I can easier 
teach twenty what were good to be done, than to be one of the 
twenty to follow mine own teaching. 

There will be degrees of subordination, of course: the 
above marking is meant only to draw attention to the purely 
instinctive process as a result of which the vocal modulations 
manifest the relative degrees of thought value. 

It is something of an art to touch lightly upon the unim- 
portant and yet not to slur it. We are not advocating that the 
teacher should at any length dwell upon this, though it is well 
for him to recognize this feature of expression. There are 
two reasons for this: first, in the earlier stages of reading 
there is a tendency to overemphasize; second, in the later 

149 



150 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

stages, the unimportant words are hurried, with the result 
that the reading becomes indistinct. 

As there are slighted words in every phrase, so there are 
slighted phrases and clauses in many sentences. We are all 
acquainted with the time-honored advice concerning the 
manner in which one should read words in parentheses: 
''Lower the voice and read faster." It is not to be denied 
that the average parenthetical thought is expressed in that 
way, but there are many examples in which the injunction will 
not apply. Whether the key will be raised or lowered, and 
whether the time will be accelerated or retarded, will depend 
entirely upon the mental attitude of the reader. To illus- 
trate: "The battle of Waterloo, — the most important battle 
of the nineteenth century, — ended the career of ]N"apoleon." 
If one has been speaking of the great importance of this 
battle, and takes for granted that his audience recognizes this 
importance, he will probably lower the key in the subordinate 
sentence, and read it faster; but otherwise he would read 
it more slowly (as a result of the importance of the 
thought), even if he did not raise the key. This leads us to 
the conclusion that a phrase or clause may be gi'ammatically 
subordinate and yet of the greatest importance. The degree 
of importance determines how it shall be read, and not arbi- 
trary rules. The main result to be obtained in this step is the 
training of the student's mind in apprehending thought- 
modulation ; to enable him to weigh the thought in order that 
he may perceive more clearly the relative values, of the various 
phrases. This perception leads in expression to that most 
desirable phase of utterance — variety. 

A few simple illustrations are added as examples of what 
may be used for class di'ill. The more difficult illustrations 
may be used for advanced classes, and for practice by the 
teacher himself : 



SUBORDINATION 151 

And children, coming home from, school, 
Look in at the open door ; 

And, with his hard, rough hand, he wipes 
A tear out of his eyes. 

However, as the sun baked these two very dry and hard, I lifted 
them very gently, and set them down again in two great wicker 
baskets, which I had made on purpose foi* them, that they might 
not break; and, as between the pot and the basket there was a 
little room to spare, I stuffed it full of the rice and barley straw ; 
and these two pots, being to stand always dry, I thought would 
hold my dry corn, and perhaps the meal, when the corn was bruised. 

Though I succeeded so poorl}^ in my design for large pots, yet I 
made several smaller things with better success, such as little round 
pots, flat dishes, pitchers, and pipkins, and anything my hand 
turned to ; and the heat of the sun baked them very hard. 

Art is long, and Time is fleeting. 
And our hearts, though stout and brave, 

Still, like muffled drums, are beating 
Funeral marches to the grave. 

Then it was that Jo, living in the darkened room, with that 
suffering little sister always before her eyes, and that pathetic 
voice sounding in her ears, learned to see the beauty and sweetness 
of Beth's nature, to feel how deep and tender a place she filled in 
all hearts, and to acknowledge the worth of Beth's unselfish ambi- 
tion to live for others, and make home happy by the exercise of 
those simple virtues which all may possess, and which all should 
love and value more than talent, wealth, or beauty.* 

It was past two o'clock when Jo, who stood at the window think- 
ing how dreary the world looked in its winding-sheet of snow, heard 
a movement by the bed, and, turning quickly, saw Meg kneeling 
before their mother's easy-chair, with her face hidden. 

In what school did the worthies of our land — the Washington.s, 
Henrys, Franklins, Rutledges — learn those principles of civil 
liberty? 

*A g-ood example to illustrate succession of ideas. 



152 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Next to the worship of the Father of us all— the deepest and 
grandest of human emotions — is the love of the land that gave us 
birth. 

I am not — I need scarcely say it — the panegyrist of England. 

I have returned, — not, as the right honorable member has said, 
to raise a storm, — I have returned to discharge an honorable debt of 
gratitude to my country. 

May that God (I do not take his name in vain), may that God 
forbid it. 

One day — shall I forget it ever? — ye were present — I had fought 
long and well. 

I was about to slay him, when a few hurried words — rather a 
welcome to death than a plea for life — told me he was a Thracian, 

One raw morning in spring — it will be eighty years the 19th of 
this month — Hancock and Adams were both at Lexington. 

And are we to speak and act like men who have sustained no 
wrong? We ! Six millions of — what shall I say? — citizens? 

Among the exploits of marvelous and almost legendary valor 
performed by that great English chieftain — who has been laid aside 
uncoroneted, and almost unhonored because he would promote and 
distinguish the men of work in preference to the men of idleness — 
among his achievements not the least wondrous was the subjuga- 
tion of the robber tribes of the Cutchee Hills in the north of 
Scinde. 

But if there is one man here — I am speaking not of shapes and 
forms, but of feelings — if there is one here that feels as men were 
wont to feel, he will draw the sword. 

And you — you, who are eight millions strong — you, who boast at 
every meeting that this island is the finest which the sun looks 
down upon — you, who have no threatening sea to stem, no avalanche 
to dread — you, who say that you could shield along your coast a 
thousand sail, and be the princes of a mighty commerce — you, who 
by the magic of an honest hand, beneath each simamer sky, might 
cull a plenteous harvest from your soil, and with the sickle strike 
away the scythe of death — you, who have no vulgar history to read 



SUBORDINATION 153 

— you, who can trace, from field to field, the evidences of civiliza- 
tion older than the Conquest — the relics of a religion far more 
ancient than the Gospel — you, who have thus been blessed, thus 
been gifted, thus been prompted to what is wise and generous and 
great — you will make no effort — you will perish by the thousand, 
and the finest island that the sun looks down upon, amid the 
jeers and hooting of the world, ^vill blacken into a plague spot, a 
wilderness, a sepulcher. 

In his early manhood, at the bidding of conscience, against the 
advice of his dearest friends, in opposition to stern paternal com- 
mands, against every dictate of worldly wisdom and human pru- 
dence, in spite of all the dazzling temptations of ambition so 
alluring to the heart of a young man, he turned away from the 
broad fair highway to wealth, position, and distinction, that the 
hands of a king opened before him, and, casting his lot with the 
sect weakest and most unpopular in England, through paths that 
were tangled with trouble, and lined with pitiless thorns of 
persecution, he walked into honor and fame, and the reverence of 
the world, such as royalty could not promise and could not give 
him. 

No one venerates the Peerage more than I do ; but, my Lords, I 
must say that the Peerage solicited me, — not I the Peerage. Nay, 
more, — I can say, and ivill say, that, as a Peer of Parliament, as 
Speaker of this right honorable House, as keeper of the great seal, 
as guardian of his Majesty's conscience, as Lord High Chancellor 
of England, — nay, even in that character alone in which the 
noble Duke would think it an affront to be considered, but which 
character none can deny me, as a MAN, — I am at this moment as 
respectable — I beg leave to add — I am as much respected, — as the 
proudest Peer I now look down upon. 

Fresh as the fiower, whose modest worth 
He sang, his genius "glinted" forth. 
Rose like a star that touching earth, 

For so it seems. 
Doth glorify its humble birth 

With matchless beams. 

The piercing eye, the thoughtful brow. 
The struggling heart, where be they now? 



154 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Full soon the aspirant of the plow, 

The prompt, the brave, 
Slept, with the obscurest, in the low 

And silent grave. 

True friends though diversely inclined ; 
But heart with heart and mind with mind, 
Where the main fibers are entwined, 

Through Nature's skill, 
May even by contraries be joined 

More closely still. 

Sighing I turned away ; but ere 
Night fell, I heard, or seemed to hear, 
Music that sorrow comes not near, 

A ritual hymn, 
Chanted in love that casts out fear 

By Seraphim. 

Too frail to keep the lofty vow 

That must have followed when his brow 

Was wreathed — "The Vision" tells us how — 

With holly spray. 
He faltered, drifted to and fro. 

And passed away. 

The five preceding stanzas are from Wordsworth's poem, 
At the Grave of Bums. 

In the illustrations that follow, the student will note three 
distinct degrees of importance of thought; in other words, 
there is the main idea, its modifier, and the modifier of the 
modifier. The vocal expression of these illustrations will be 
affected just to the extent that the student appreciates the 
value of the different phrases. 

At Atri in Abruzzo, a small town 
Of ancient Roman date, but scant renown, 
One of those little places that have run 
Half up the hill, beneath a blazing sun. 
And then sat down to rest, as if to say, 



SUBOEDINATION 155 

"I climb no farther upward, come what m.ay," 
The Re Giovanni, now unknown to fame, 
So many monarchs since have borne the name, 
Had a great bell hung in the market-place. 

It is my purpose, therefore, believing that there are certain 
points of superiority in modern artists, and especially in one or 
two of their number, which have not yet been fully understood, 
except by those "who are scarcely in a position admitting the declara- 
tion of their conviction, to institute a close comparison between 
the great works of ancient and modern landscape art. 

Many students who find no difficulty in silently read- 
ing such extracts as the above, will often fail in their vocal 
expression because of the fact that the latter is more deliber- 
ate; and consequently they may lose the trend of the main 
thought in rendering the explanatory and parenthetical por- 
tions. To overcome this difficulty, they are advised to read 
the sentence, with the omission of all but the most essential 
idea ; then let them add one idea after another to the main idea, 
until the sentence is read correctly in its enthety. In the last 
example quoted, the main idea is, "It is my purpose ... to 
institute a close comparison between the gTeat works of 
ancient and modern landscape art." Read this tliree or four 
times, until the idea is clearly apprehended. Now read the 
sentence, omitting "and especially in one or two of their num- 
ber," until this larger thought is gi-asped; after which let the 
sentence be read as a whole. 

Following the usual plan, a class lesson is added : 

"When I was in Paris (which is in France), I saw a great many 
pretty things." 

Read this sentence carefully and you will find something we have 
not had before : a group of words in parenthesis. 

You notice, we should have very good sense without this group. 
Read it: "When I was in Paris I saw a great many pretty things." 

So you see, the words "which is in France" are not so impor- 



156 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

tant as the rest of the sentence. You might say they were thrown 
in after you had thought of the other idea. 

Now, I want you to read the sentence aloud, leaving out the 
group, '* which is in France." After you have done this five or six 
times, then read the whole sentence, keeping in mind that the 
words in parenthesis are not very important, but just thrown in to 
let people know that you mean Paris in France, and not some other 
Paris. 

The groups that are thrown in are not always put in parenthesis. 
But that does not make any difference in the reading. Here are a 
few examples. I want you to practice on them just as you did on 
the first example in this lesson, 

1. "The king of England, who was a very brave man, won sev- 
eral victories over the French. ' ' 

2. "The largest school in our city, which is Chicago, has more 
than five hundred children in it. ' ' 

3. "During the Christmas vacation, which lasts ten days, I went 
to see my grandmother. ' ' 

4. "Frank did all his mother asked him to do; but William, 
because he was careless and disobedient, gave his mother and 
teacher a great deal of trouble. ' ' 

This last example makes very clear what we have been studying 
in this lesson. You see plainly that the words, "because he was 
careless and disobedient," are put in simply to explain why 
William gave a great deal of trouble. 

You must be very careful about this kind of sentence, because 
there are a great many of them on every page, and you will be sure 
to miss them if you are careless. 

The teacher should ask the pupils to bring in other 
examples, and have them read in the class. He should also 
select examples from the reading book. 



CHAPTER X 



VALUES 



This feature of expression is one of the most vital . It has 
to do with the value of each phrase of the sentence and each 
phase of the whole selection. With every change of thought 
and emotion comes another form of expression, and these dif- 
ferent forms we may call Values. We apply the term Tran- 
sition to the act of passing from one shade of thought or feel- 
ing to another. All transitions are not necessarily emotional, 
and yet those most significant ai'e certainly of this character. 
Let us first consider a few examples not strongly marked with 
emotion : 

^^ Three quarters round your partners sivingP'' 
^'Across the setP' The rafters ring, 
The girls and boys have taken wing, 

And hare brought their roses out ! 
'Tis ''Forward six!"' %vith rustic grace, 
Ah, rarer far than — ''Sicing to place!'" 
Than golden clouds of old point lace. 

They bring the dance about. 

In the foregoing we have a picture of the country dance. 
We hear the figures called out by the old fiddler, and see the 
ever -varying changes of The Honey Musk. Study the 
lines so as to be able to bring out the calls clearly, noting 
the two distinct calls at the opening, and the abrupt break in 
the sixth line. 

The next extract presents a wife confiding to a friend the 
story of her courtship. Her husband is a true knight, and 

157 



158 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

would perhaps resent it to have even his bravery form the 
subject of conversation. The story has reached its conclusion 
when the speaker says : 

Our elder boy has got the clear 

Great brow; tho' when his brother's black 

Full eyes show scorn, it — 

and she is probably about to add some such statement as, "It 
behooves one to look out, " when suddenly the husband appears 
on the scene. With a woman's ready wit, she breaks off the 
sentence abruptly, saying : 

Gismond here? 
And have you brought my tercel back? 
I was just telling Adela 
How many birds it struck since May. 

We might put into words what passes through her 
mind. She is about to add something further concerning 
the eyes of her boy, when she hears the sound of feet along 
the walk. Expecting her husband, the concluding words of 
her sentence pass from her mind as she turns to see the vis- 
itor. It is Gismond. He must not know that she has been 
speaking of him. The tercel in his hand gives her the oppor- 
tunity of opening the conversation, which she is quick to do, 
adroitly pretending that it was of that very tercel she and her 
friend had been conversing before his arrival. 

One more illustration of this kind will suffice. A tender, 
loving woman is talking to her husband. He is a learned 
poet, and perhaps just a trifle of a pedant. He is most mi- 
nute and exact in all he does, ever losing sight of the spirit in 
the letter. The wife is the true poet, caring nothing for the 
archaeology and philology and the geography, but quick to 
perceive the inner meaning of the poetic. He has told her a 



VALUES 159 

story in the past, and she is going now to tell it back to him 
with a new moral. 

Here is the first stanza : 

What a pretty tale you told me 

Once upon a time 
— Said you found me somewhere (scold me!) 

Was it prose or was it rhyme, 
Greek or Latin? 

When the woman comes to "somewhere," she finds she 
has forgotten the source of the original story. That means so 
much to him ! It is so important ! With a quizzical look, 
she pretends to rack her brains for the missing information, 
knowing all the time she will not find it, and knowing equally 
well that it makes no difference in the story. Then, with a 
coy expression and a look of mock humility on her face, she 
lets fall her eyes, meekly acknowledging her awful guilt, 
and stands prepared to accept her just punishment, saying, 
Scold me! I deserve it. I have sinned; my punishment is just. 

Many students find it no easy task to make these transi- 
tions naturally. Some do not make them at all, but run the 
two phases of thought or emotion together. Others anticipate 
the coming idea, and hurry ihe last two or three words before 
the break. The proper training is to W7'ite oi' tliinh out the 
incomfplete sentence^ then let it more or less quickly vanish 
from the mind as the new conception gi'ows clearer, without 
betraying the fact that one is conscious of a coming inter- 
ruption. For instance, in the second example, one must read 
up to and through "it" without the slightest suggestion of 
the coming of Gismond, and even think the conclusion of the 
sentence. Then hear or suddenly see Gismond just as the 
word "it" falls from the lips, and dismissing fi'om the mind 
the former idea, conclude with the joyous, wifely welcome and 
question. 



160 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

It might be proper to remark here that the same principle 
applies to the reading of dialogue. Except in rare cases the 
reader should not in any way anticipate the speech of one 
character while rendering the words of another. 

For those who do not intend to become readers, but who 
would be preachers or lawyers, the practice here recommended 
will prove of great value. Too many speakers, in their excite- 
ment on the one hand and in their spiritless ness on the other, 
glide along line after line in one monotonous drift. A study 
of these exercises will teach the necessity of transitions, and 
train in the control of the mental action-in this regard, — a 
control antecedent to that most important requisite, variety. 
After almost every paragraph or stanza there is more or less of 
change in the thought, and the apprehension of this change 
will be sufficient to modulate the vocal expression. 

Even where there is no abrupt change in the flow of ideas, 
there is often a gradual transition from one emotion to 
another, and these transitions may occur several times within 
one paragraph. Take the following excerpt from Webster's 
reply to Hayne. It is one paragraph ; but it is divided into 
four smaller paragraphs, each of which is a marked "phase" 
of the thinking. Practice in the analysis of selections to 
determine these phases is the best and only rational training in 
transitions. But its value does not stop here; for the stu- 
dent not only makes transitions, but is led, through careful 
analysis, to discern shades of meaning and emotion he might 
otherwise overlook : 

Sir, the gentleman inquires why he was made the object of a 
reply. Why was he singled out? If an attack has been made on 
the East he, he assures us, did not begin it ; it was made by the 
gentleman from Missouri, 

Sir, I answered the gentleman's speech because I happened to 
hear it, and because I chose to answer that speech which, if 
unanswered, I thought most likely to produce injurious impressions. 



VALUES 161 

I did not stop to inquire who was the original drawer of the 
bill. I found a responsible endorser before me, and it was my pur- 
pose to hold him liable, and to bring him to his just responsibility 
without delay. 

But, sir, this interrogatory of the honorable member was only 
introductory to another. He proceeds to ask whether I had turned 
upon him in this debate from the consciousness that I should find 
an overmatch if I ventured on a contest with his friend from 
Missouri. 

Transitions in emotion do not differ in principle from 
those we have been considering. The student must pursue 
the same method with these as with the others, expressing 
the first emotion until he comes to the break, making 
then an elliptical paraphrase, and then presenting the new 
emotion. An excellent model is the following speech of King 
Lear. 

The aged monarch has, in a fit of rage, cast adrift his 
youngest child, and his eldest has turned him from her home. 
He turns in despair to his remaining daughter, assured that 
he will here receive a filial welcome. To his surprise, she 
refuses to meet him ; says she is sick and travel -weary ; and 
his amazed feeling finds vent in an uncontrolled explosion of 
passion : 

Lear. Vengeance! plague! death! confusion! — 
Fiery? what quality? Why, Gloucester, Gloucester, 
I'd speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife. 

Gloucester. Well, my good lord, I have inform' d them so. 

Lear. Inform'd them! Dost thou understand me, man? 

Gloucester. Ay, my good lord. 

Lear. The King would speak with Cornwall ; the dear father 
Would with his daughter speak ; commands her service : 
Are they inform'd of this? — My breath and blood! 
Fiery? the fiery Duke? Tell the hot Duke that— 
No, but not yet: may be he is not well; — 

— King Lear, Act ii., So. 4. 



162 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

and he then proceeds to find excuses for her action, and that 
of her husband, the Duke of CornwaU. There is hardly a 
more pathetic incident in a most pathetic play than this, in 
which the old man, past his eightieth year, after holding un- 
disputed sway through his long reign, is at last compelled to 
temporize. He is about to send a message to the Duke, the 
character of which is easily judged from his previous language. 
If that message is sent, Lear will be alone in the world. But 
suddenly his fearful position flashes upon him. The threat 
dies upon his lips, gradually blending into apology and 
conciliation. 

EXAMPLES OF EMOTIONAL TRANSITIONS. 

If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. 
You all do know this mantle : I remember 
The first time ever Caesar put it on ; 
'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent, 
That day he overcame the Nervii : 
Look, in this place ran Cassius' dagger through. 

— Julius Caesar, Act iii. , Sc 2. 

He spoke ; but Eustum gazed, and gazed, and stood 
Speechless; and then he utter' d one sharp cry: 
"O boy — thy father!" — and his voice choked there. 
And then a dark cloud pass'd before his eyes, 
And his head swam, and he sank down to earth. 

— Sohrah and Rustum. M. Arnold. 

"Ferood, and ye, Persians and Tartars, hear! 
Let there be truce between the hosts to-day. 
But choose a champion from the Persian lords 
To fight our champion Sohrab, man to man. " 

As in the country, on a morn in June, 
When the dew glistens on the pearled ears, 
A shiver runs through the deep corn for joy — 
So, when they heard what Peran-Wisa said, 
A thrill through all the Tartar squadrons ran 
Of pride and hope for Sohrab, whom they loved. 



VALUES 163 

But as a troop of peddlers from Cabool, 
Cross underneath the Indian Caucasus, 
The vast sky-neighboring mountain of milk snow ; 
Crossing so high, that, as they mount, they pass 
Long flocks of traveling birds dead on the snow, 
Choked by the air, and scarce can they themselves 
Slake their parch' d throats with sugar' d mulberries — 
In single file they move and stop their breath, 
For fear they should dislodge the o'erhanging snows — 
So the pale Persians held their breath with fear. 

— Sohrab and Rustum. M. Arnold. 

Note how, after the words, "whom they loved," the 
atmosphere changes from that of joy to that of dread and scorn 
— scorn at the cowardice of the Persians, and the dread that the 
speaker would sympathetically feel as he recounted the deed. 

This too thou know'st, that while I still bear on 

The conquering Tartar ensigns through the world, 

And beat the Persians back on every field, 

I seek one man, one man, and one alone — 

Rustum, my father ; who I hoped should greet. 

Should one day greet, upon some well-fought field, 

His not unworthy, not inglorious son. 

So I long hoped, but him I never find. 

Come then, hear now, and grant me what I ask. 

Let the two armies rest to-day ; but I 

Will challenge forth the bravest Persian lords 

To meet me man to man ; if I prevail, 

Eustum will surely hear it ; if I fall — 

Old man, the dead need no one, claim no kin. 

Dim is the rumor of a common fight, 

Where host meets host, and many names are sunk ; 

But of a single combat fame speaks clear. 

— Sohrab and Rustum. M. Arnold. 

STUDIES IK "phases." 

This extract from Tennyson's Charge of the Heavy Brigade 
contains five distinct phases, or strata, ending respectively 



164 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

with the words, "fight," "close," "then," "thousands," and | 

"Brigade." 1 

The trumpet, the gallop, the charge, and the might of the fight ! 

Thousands of horsemen had gather' d there on the height, 

With a wing push'd out to the left and a wing to the right, 

And who shall escape if they close? but he dash'd up alone 

Thro' the great gray slope of men, 

Sway'd his saber, and held his own 

Like an Englishman, there and then ; i 

All in a moment follow' d with force 1 

Three that were next in their fiery course, i 

Wedged themselves in between horse and horse, 

Fought for their lives in the narrow gap they had made — 

Four amid thousands ! and up the hill, up the hill, 

Gallopt the gallant three hundred, the Heavy Brigade. 

As when a boar 
Or lion mid the hounds and huntsmen stands, 1 

Fearfully strong, and fierce of eye, and they 
In square array assault him, and their hands 
Fling many a javelin ; — yet his noble heart 
Fears not, nor does he fly, although at last 
His courage cause his death ; and oft he turns, 
And tries their ranks ; and where he makes a rush 
The rank gives way ; — so Hector moved and turned 
Among the crowd, and bade his followers cross 
The trench. _Tiie Iliad. 

Hector, thou almost ever chidest me 

In council, even when I judge aright. 

I know it ill becomes the citizen 

To speak against the way that pleases thee, 

In war or council, — he should rather seek 

To strengthen thy authority ; yet now 

I will declare what seems to me the best : 

Let us not combat with the Greeks, to take 

Their fleet; for this, I think, will be the end, — 

If now the omen we have seen be meant 

For us of Troy who seek to cross the trench; — 



VALUES 165 

This eagle, flying high upon the left, 

Between the hosts, that in his talons bore 

A monstrous serpent, bleeding, yet alive, 

Hath dropped it mid our host before he came 

To his dear nest, nor brought it to his brood ; — 

So we, although by force we break the gates 

And rampart, and although the Greeks fall back, 

Shall not as happily retrace our way ; 

For many a Trojan shall we leave behind. 

Slain by the weapons of the Greeks, who stand 

And fight to save their fleet. Thus will the seer. 

Skilled in the lore of prodigies, explain 

The portent, and the people will obey. 

— The Biad. 

And thus King Priam supplicating spake : — 
"Think of thy father, an old man like me, 
Godlike Achilles ! On the dreary verge 
Of closing life he stands, and even now 
Haply is flercely pressed by those who dwell 
Around him, and has none to shield his age 
From war and its disasters. Yet his heart 
Rejoices when he hears that thou dost live, 
And every day he hopes that his dear son 
Will come again from Troy. My lot is hard. 
For I was father of the bravest sons 
In all wide Troy, and none are left me now. 
Fifty were with me when the men of Greece 
Arrived upon our coast ; nineteen of these 
Owned the same mother, and the rest were born 
Within my palaces. Remorseless Mars 
Already had laid lifeless most of these, 
And Hector, whom I cherished most, whose arm 
Defended both our city and ourselves. 
Him didst thou lately slay while combating 
For his dear country. For his sake I come 
To the Greek fleet, and to redeem his corse 
I bring uncounted ransom. O revere 
The gods, Achilles, and be merciful, 
Calling to mind thy father ! happier he 



166 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Than I ; for I have borne what no"man else 

That dwells on earth could bear, — have laid my lips 

Upon the hand of him who slew my son." 

He spake : Achilles sorrowfully thought 

Of his own father. By the hand he took 

The suppliant, and with gentle force removed 

The old man from him. Both in memory 

Of those they loved were weeping. The old king, 

With many tears, and rolling in the dust 

Before Achilles, mourned his gallant son. 

Achilles sorrowed for his father's sake, 

And then bewailed Patroclus, and the sound 

Of lamentation filled the tent. At last 

Achilles, when he felt his heart relieved 

By tears, and that strong grief had spent its force, 

Sprang from his seat ; then lifting by the hand 

The aged man, and pitying his white head 

And his white chin, he spake these winged words : 

— The Iliad. 

It is especially in the reading of description that the study 
of values will prove most beneficial. There are very few read- 
ers who can make description interesting, and their failure is 
in most cases due to the monotony arising from their inability 
to perceive and make palpable the different values. The 
reply of Achilles to Priam becomes most interesting reading 
when values are carefully observed. 

Great have thy sufferings been, unhappy king 1 

How couldst thou venture to approach alone 

The Grecian fleet, and show thyself to him 

Who slew so many of thy valiant sons? 

An iron heart is thine. But seat thyself, 

And let us, though afflicted grievously, 

Allow our woes to sleep awhile, for grief 

Indulged can bring no good. The gods ordain 

The lot of man to suffer, while themselves 

Are free from care. Beside Jove's threshold stand 

Two casks of gifts for man. One cask contains 



VALUES 167 

The evil, one the good, and he to whom 

The Thunderer gives them mingled sometimes falls 

Into misfortune, and is sometimes crowned 

With blessings. But the man to whom he gives 

The evil only stands a mark exposed 

To wrong, and, chased by grim calamity. 

Wanders the teeming earth, alike unloved 

By gods and man. So did the gods bestow 

Munificent gifts on Peleus from his birth, 

For eminent was he among mankind 

For wealth and plenty ; o'er the Myrmidons 

He ruled, and, though a mortal, he was given 

A goddess for a wife. Yet did the gods 

Add evil to the good, for not to him 

Was born a family of kingly sons 

Within his house, successors to reign. 

One short-Hved son is his, nor am I there 

To cherish him in his old age ; but here 

Do I remain, far from my native land, 

In Troy, and causing grief to thee and thine. 

Of thee, too, aged king, they speak, as one 

Whose wealth was large in former days, when all 

That Lesbos, seat of Macar, owns was thine. 

And all in Phrygia and the shores that bound 

The Hellespont ; men said thou didst excel 

All others in thy riches and thy sons. 

But since the gods have brought this strife on thee 

War and perpetual slaughter of brave men 

Are round thy city. Yet be firm of heart. 

Nor grieve forever. Sorrow for thy son 

Will profit nought ; it cannot bring the dead 

To life again, and while thou dost afflict 

Thyself for him fresh woes may fall on thee. 

— The Iliad: 

The subject may be presented to the class somewhat in 
the manner of the following lesson : 

Suppose you were very busy studying your reading lesson, and 
you were just about to read aloud a sentence like this: 



168 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

There's a good time coming, boys, 
A good time coming ! 

But when you came to the second "good," let us suppose somebody 
knocks at the door and you say, "Come in. " What has happened in 
your reading? You have broken off one thought suddenly and 
another has come in its place. Let us see how such a sentence 
would look: 

There's a good time coming, boys, 
A good — Come in. 

Now, what is the difference between this sentence and those we 
studied in our last lesson? It is this : In the former lesson the new 
thought that was thrown in was really a part of the principal 
thought ; but in this the new thought has no connection with the 
principal idea. In the previous lesson the group that was thrown 
in was a kind of explanation; in this lesson, the first picture is 
driven entirely out of mind by the second. 

Breaks in the thought are of many kinds, and it is very necessary 
that you should be on the look-out for them. Here is an example of 
a kind you will find quite often : 

"Halt !" The dust-brown ranks stood fast. 
"Fire!" out blazed the rifle-blast. 

The words "halt" and "fire" are commands given by the 
general; the sentence that follows each of these words tells us 
what happened after the commands were given. 

Another kind of break is found in those selections in which 
there are two or more persons speaking. As in this: "Frank said, 
'Will you go to school with me?' and his brother said, 'No, I don't 
like it. ' 'Not like school?' replied Frank, who was very much sur- 
prised, 'I would rather go there than anywhere I know.' " You 
can see plainly that there is a break when the reader changes from 
one i)erson to another. 

The last kind of break we shall speak about in this lesson is that 
which occurs between the stanzas of a poem or between the para- 
graphs of a prose selection. I need not give any examples here, for 
you will find them on every page of your reader. All I need do is 
tell you that the new paragraph or the new stanza generally begins 



VALUES 169 

with a new thought. So you must be sure to get that new thought, 
and hold it well in mind, before you try to express it. 

In closing this lesson I want to show you that you may learn how 
to read such examples as we have had, if you will but be careful. 
You must be sure to get each new picture before you utter a word. 
Take the first example. You have read the first line, "There's a 
good time coming, boys," and you are just about to repeat it. Now 
think what you are going to say, and just as you come to the word 
"good," imagine you hear a knocking, and say, "Come in," If 
you will only think what the words mean and see the picture, 
there will be no trouble about reading the example well. 

A few examples for class use are appended. The teacher 
may easily invent suitable contexts : 

My servant-boy, with a reserve gun, was ten or twelve yards off 
— a long way at such a moment. 

It would make the reader pity me to learn that, after having 
labored hard, I could not make above two large earthen, ugly things 
(I can not call them jars) in about two months' labor. 

The tear will start, and let it flow ; 
Thou ' 'poor Inhabitant below, ' ' 
At this dread moment, — even so — 

Might we together 
Have sate and talked where gowans blow, 

Or on wild heather. 

In the above, Wordsworth laments that the death of Bm'ns 
should have deprived them of the joy of communion. Note 
the force of the semicolon after "flow," and the pathos of 
even so." The following lines are from the same poem: 

Too frail to keep the lofty vow 
That must have followed when his brow- 
Was wreathed — "The Vision" tells us how — 

With holly spray, 
He faltered, drifted to and fro, 

And passed away. 



(C 



170 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Now, when the Hare came to the top of the field, the Hedgehog 
cried out, "Hallo! here I am. Where have you been all this 
while?" But the Hare was out of his wits, and cried out, "Once 
more — ^turn about, and away!" "By all means," answered the 
Hedgehog; "for my part, as often as you please." 

Young Harry was a lusty drover — 

And who so stout of limb as he? 
His cheeks were red as ruddy clover ; 

His voice was like the voice of three. 
Old Goody Blake was old and poor ; 

Ill-fed she was, and thinly clad ; 
And any man who passed her door 

Might see how poor a hut she had. 

There is a change of feeling in almost every stanza of the 
following poem. If the pupils can grasp its meaning it will 
be an excellent exercise in training them to perceive the 
relative values. It may be well to delay the study of this 
selection until after the principle of the next two chapters 
has been thoroughly grasped and put into practice : 

On Linden, when the sun was low, 
All bloodless lay th' untrodden snow, 
And dark as winter was the flow 
Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 

But Linden saw another sight, 
When the drum beat at dead of night, 
Commanding fires of death to light 
The darkness of her scenery. 

By torch and trumpet fast arrayed, 
Each horseman drew his battle-blade, 
And furious every charger neighed, 
To join the dreadful revelry. 

Then shook the hills, with thunder riven ; 
Then rushed the steed, to battle driven ; 
And, louder than the bolts of heaven, 
Far fiashed the red artillery. 



VALUES 171 

But redder yet that light shall glow 
On Linden's hills of stained snow, 
And bloodier yet the torrent flow 
Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 

'Tis morn, but scarce yon lurid sun 
Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, 
Where furious Frank and fiery Hun 
Shout in their sulph'rous canopy. 

The combat deepens. On, ye brave. 
Who rush to glory or the grave ! 
Wave, Munich ! all thy banners wave, 
And charge with all thy chivalry ! 

Few, few shall paii: where many meet ! 
The snow shall be their winding-sheet, 
And every turf beneath their feet 
Shall be a soldier's sepulcher. 

— Hohenlinden. Campbell. 



CHAPTER XI 



EMOTION" 



Teaching cliildren to read with feeling is one of the most 
difficult tasks falling to the lot of the teacher, and yet it is one 
that has, if successfully accomplished, far-reaching results. 
For, apart from the legitimate development of emotion, it 
enlarges their sympathy and lays the foundation for a genuine 
love of literature. 

We must confess that emotional expression is rarely found 
in our public schools. It would avail little to discuss the 
causes of this condition in detail. In this chapter we shall try 
to discover a remedy. Emotion in reading comes largely 
through the imagination. Unless the mind conceives the 
thought, how can the nerves thrill and tingle? It is for this 
that we need teachers who are themselves lovers of the beauti- 
ful, sublime, tender, in order that they may impart their ap- 
preciation and feeling to their classes. Emotion is catching, 
and so is the absence of it! Time, time, time, is here the 
great need. It takes time to think ; time for the picture to 
come forth in its fulness out of subconsciousness. Is not 
imagination the basis of literary interpretation, of historical 
study, yes, even of mathematics and science? The time spent 
on the development of imagination and emotion in the 
reading lesson will show its results in every other study. 

If, then, the teacher would get the right emotion, he must 
see to it that the child has the proper and adequate stimulus. 
Appeal to his everyday experience and make that serve as an 
introduction to the new experience of the poem. 

Let us suppose we are speaking to the children : 

173 



EMOTION 173 

If your class were to have a contest with another class, let us say- 
in spelling, and your class were to come out victorious, you would, 
no doubt, feel very joyful over the result. Now, let us suppose that 
after the victory one of the members of the class should get up on 
his seat and wave his hand above his head, crying: "Three cheers 
for our class!" Would there be^ny difference between the way in 
which he spoke those words and the way in which he would read 
the same words if they came in a sentence like this: "If we win I 
shall give three cheers for our class"? 

Of course, you will see at once that there would be a great deal 
of difference. In the first place, he would be very joyful, and per- 
haps excited, and this joy and excitement would get into his voice, 
and he would call out, "Three cheers for our class," with a great 
deal of feeling, or emotion ; and everybody would see at once just 
how exultant he was. Now, what is it that causes that feeling, or 
emotion? I do not think that there will be much difficulty in 
answering this question. He was very much excited before the 
spelling contest came off, and now that it has been decided in your 
favor there is a feeling of great joy that comes over the whole body, 
and it is almost impossible to keep back the expression of that joy. 
In other words, he has been strongly moved. 

I want to impress now upon you that as you go on with your 
study of reading, you will find that there is a great deal of emotion 
in many of the passages you will be called upon to read, and the only 
way to discover what the emotion is, must be by getting a very clear 
picture. But remember that the picture itself is not very likely to 
move you unless you enter into the spirit of the picture just as 
you entered into the spirit of the spelling contest. Do you see my 
meaning? One might say the words, "Three cheers for our class," 
and not express very much emotion. One might even have a very 
clear picture of the whole spelling match, and yet not be very much 
moved. But if you will close your eyes and let the picture get hold 
of you, I think there will be no trouble about the emotion. Let 
me see whether I can make clear to you what I mean by letting the 
picture get hold of you. 

Suppose we take this line from a well-known speech, "Wolsey 
on His Fall:" — "Farewell, a long farewell to all my greatness!" 
Who speaks those words? is the first question. The answer is : An 
old man who has been for many years one of the leading men in the 
court of Henry VIII. He has used every effort to gain great power, 



174 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

and has forgotten his God, and now at last the king has cast him off. 
Just after Wolsey has been informed of his loss of power, he utters 
the words quoted above. Just think how much these words 
mean to this poor man. Think how much he must suffer, and then 
try to feel as much as you can what it would mean to you if every- 
thing you had hoped for and struggled for were to be taken away 
from you. Of course, I know that you have not been so ambitious 
as Wolsey, but yet I think you will have no trouble in imagining 
just how you would feel if everything you cared for were to be taken 
away from you. Well, this is all that you need feel in order to read 
with emotion the lines of Wolsey. Just think this over for a few 
minutes, and then see how much regret you can feel as you utter 
these words. Be sure that you get the meaning of the words; 
be sure you get hold of the picture ; try to imagine just how you 
would feel if you were very deeply disappointed, and then utter the 
words of Wolsey. 

This, then, is what I mean by telling you to let the picture get 
hold of you. When you were exultant over the result of the spell- 
ing contest, joy possessed you. When Wolsey learned of his fall, 
sorrow and remorse possessed him. So with all emotions. You must 
think over the whole story ; you must think over all the events 
connected with it until you really feel somewhat as the speaker felt 
whose words you are reading. Then there will be no trouble 
about the expression. 

The teacher will observe that the two illustrations are 
chosen from two distinct fields: one near to the child's 
experience, the other far removed from it. It is further 
observed that both are direct discourse rather than descrip- 
tion. 

It seems the best plan to begin the definite study of emo- 
tional expression by using extracts in which the pupil uses 
direct rather than indirect discourse. The reason for this is 
that it is far more difficult to read, with expression, a passage 
of description in which the pupil would be expected to put 
emotion, than a piece of direct quotation. For instance, is it 
not easier for a child to enter into the spirit of the first of the 



EMOTION 175 

following stanzas than into that of the second, granting even 
that it is difficult to conceive the anguish of the father? 

The father came on deck. He gasped, 

"O God! thy will be done! " 
Then suddenly a rifle grasped, 

And aimed it at his son : 
"Jump — far-out, boy, into the wave! 

Jump, or I fire ! " he said ; 
"That only chance your life can save! 

Jump ! jump ! boy ! ' ' He obeyed. 

He sank — he rose — he lived — he moved, 

And for the ship struck out : 
On board we hailed the lad beloved. 

With many a manly shout. 
His father drew, in silent joy. 

Those wet arms round his neck, 
And folded to his heart his boy — 

Then fainted on the deck. 

In the second place, the reason for choosing selections in 
which the emotion is akin to those of the child's own experi- 
ence must be clear. How many pupils ten or eleven years old 
can be expected to enter into the spirit of Whittier's The 
Barefoot Boy 9 

Blessings on thee, little man — 
Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan ! 
With thy turned-up pantaloons, 
And thy merry whistled tunes ; 
With thy red lip, redder still. 
Kissed by strawberries on the hill ; 
With the sunshine on thy face. 
Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace; 
From my heart I give thee joy ! 
I was once a barefoot boy ! 

It is only to discourage him, to ask him to feel like an adult 
who looks back upon the joys of boyhood. One hears this 



176 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

selection read in an affected voice and manner, where it is clear 
that the child is simply trying to imitate his teacher. But 
such experiences simply go to prove the contention that chil- 
dren should not be called upon to represent emotions far 
removed from their own experience. 

But how shall we get our pupils to express emotions 
beyond their experience? The answer is : the teacher should 
strive to find those experiences in the child's life that are 
similar to those of the selection to be read. We have shown 
how this might be done in the line from Wolsey's speech. 
The child has experienced regret; let us make use of this 
experience to get him to feel something of Wolsey's feeling. 
Again (and this applies largely to advanced classes), it is by 
no means necessary that the pupil should ever have come into 
contact with the picture that stirs the writer, in order to 
represent the latter 's feelings. It is the joy that the lover 
of nature feels that finds expression in these lines : 

How the robin feeds her young, 
How the oriole's nest is hung ; 
Where the whitest HUes blow. 
Where the freshest berries grow. 
Where the ground-nut trails its vine ; 
Where the wood-grape's clusters shine; 
Of the black wasp's cunning way. 
Mason of his walls of clay. 

— The Barefoot Boy. Whittier. 

But how can we get the true expression from one who 
knows nothing of the joy we take in contemplating the pic- 
tures of this stanza? By reminding him that our joy is not 
far different from his when rejoicing in a beautiful book, a 
lucky hit at baseball, or a pretty Christmas gift. Let us 
remember that it is not enough that he shall get the pictures : 
he must get the joy. And if he cannot get the joy from the 
pictures of the poet, he must get it from the memory of his 



EMOTION 177 

own past joy, no matter under what circumstances. It is 
simply a question of transferring his own past emotion to the 
present moment. 

Summarized, our points are : 

First, choose emotions near to the child's experience. 

Second, transfer his past experiences and emotions to the 
particular poem or stanza to be read. 

Third, use direct discourse, in drill work, as far as possible. 

Perhaps it would not be advisable to use selections in our 
reading lessons that call for an extremely difficult exercise of 
imagination on the part of the child, but since these selec- 
tions are found in our reading books it is well to know how 
to do the best possible under the circumstances. 

The most important point of all is that children must be 
brought into contact with nature. We cannot expect them to 
delight in a description of a sunset, or a robin's nest, or a 
bunch of pansies, when they have never delighted in sunsets, 
or robins' nests or pansies. When their early training is wise 
they will not need to transfer their emotions from another 
realm to read with true expression. 

We are now to enter the more complex realm of expres- 
sion, in which the emotion is more intense, and instead of being 
a single emotion is a blending of many. Take, for example, the 
trial scene from The Merchant of Ve?iice. There are many 
speeches of Shylock that might illustrate our point, and we 
shall take the first that presents itself. The Duke of Venice 
has been urging Shylock to abandon his suit, whereupon the 
latter replies : 

I have possessed your grace of what I purpose ; 
And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn, 
To have the due and forfeit of my bond. 

What emotions does Shylock portray? There is the emotion 
of hatred of Antonio and the feeling of obstinacy; and there is, 



178 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

further, the sense of wi'ong that has been heaped upon his race 
in general, and himself in particular. It would be useless to 
discuss how far each of these elements is an emotion. It is 
sufficient for our purpose to have shown that these three 
mental conditions are present virtually at one time in the brain 
of the speaker. Now, if any one of these elements (to say 
nothing of others that might be mentioned) is omitted, the 
characterization will lack trutlifulness. 

There is another element in complexity of expression that 
needs a moment's attention. The emotion itself may be a 
simple one, but the character we aim to represent may be so 
far removed from our own that one must assume or take on 
many attributes. For instance, if one were portraying old 
Adam in ^5 You Like It, he would be compelled to mani- 
fest the weakness of old age in body and voice. Now, when 
the old man says, "Dear master, I can go no further; 0, I 
die for food," it is not sufficient for the reader to portray 
simply the pathos of the line, but his expression becomes 
more complex in so far as it must manifest both the pathos 
and the weakness. 

In preparing to present the emotions in the following 
extracts it is well for the student to study carefully the nature 
of the thought, the emotion, and the character separately, and 
conceive each of the simpler emotional elements by itself. 
If he is representing, let us say, pathos and dignity, let him 
hold dignity before his mind until the whole being responds ; 
then let him conceive pathos by itself; and, finally, let him 
conceive pathos coid dignity, and endeavor to present them. 
This process will not be necessary in all cases; for there 
are those who can conceive these more complex conditions 
with one effort, as it were. But unless the student has 
this ability, the preceding process should be followed. And 
even when a student has the necessary ability to conceive the 



EMOTION 179 

complete expression at once, he is very likely to lose some of 
what might be called the ingredients of a composite emotion. 
For instance, in representing the strong language of one who 
might be said never to lose his anger, the student who is pai'- 
ticularly choleric by natm-e is very likely to forget the dignity 
of the character. He may be reminded of his error by recall- 
ing dignity to his mind, and at once the natural temperament 
of the speaker will be modified by the new stimulus. 

It might also be well to consider here another reason for 
the practice of these illustrations. Many students are tempera- 
mentally restricted and shy, and others have become so 
through training and environment. Before these can hope to 
become effective readers there must be a certain amount of 
genuine abandon. Hence, even if a student may never have 
any use for the ability to impersonate, the practice here 
recommended will prove to be one of the best, surest, and 
quickest methods of bringing him out of himself. The aban- 
don thus gained will stand him in good stead in any effort he 
may be called upon to make as a public speaker. 

Let it be remembered that niceties of form are not to be 
expected for a long time. If the student's abandon is 
developed, that is all that should be expected. 

In the following speech the student must never forget that 
Othello is a warrior, one accustomed to command, and of large 
heart. His dignity, therefore, must be manifest tln'oughout 
the address : 

Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, 

My very noble and approv'd good masters, — 

That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter. 

It is most true ; true, I have married her ; 

The very head and front of my offending 

Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech, 

And little bless' d with the soft phrase of peace; 



180 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

For, since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, 

Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used 

Their dearest action in the tented field ; 

And little of this great world can I speak, 

More than pertains to feats of broil and battle, 

And therefore little shall I grace my cause 

In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience, 

I will a round unvarnished tale deliver 

Of my whole course of love ; what drugs, what charms, 

What conjuration, and what mighty magic, 

(For such proceeding I am charg'd withal,) 

I won his daughter with. 

Her father lov'd me; oft invited me; 

Still question' d me the story of my life, 

From year to year ; the battles, sieges, fortunes, 

That I have passed. 

I ran it through, even from my boyish days. 

To the very moment that he bade me tell it : 

Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances, 

Of moving accidents by flood and field, 

Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach; 

Of being taken by the insolent foe, 

And sold to slavery ; of my redemption thence. 

And portance in my travel's history. — 

—Othello, Acti., Sc. 3. 

Another excellent extract for practice is the following 
speech of Cassias from the first act of Julius Caesar. Note 
the dignity, the sarcasm, the ridicule, the contempt, and the 
sense of triumph : 

I cannot tell what you and other men 
Think of this life ; but, for my single self, 
I had as lief not be, as live to be 
In awe of such a thing as I myself. 
I was born as free as Caesar ; so were you : 
We both have fed as well, and we can both 
Endure the winter's cold as well as he: 
For once upon a raw and gusty day. 



EMOTION 181 

The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, 

Caesar said to me, "Darest thou, Cassius, now 

Leap in with nie into this angry flood. 

And swim to yonder point?" Upon the word, 

Accoutred as I was, I plunged in, 

And bade him follow ; so indeed he did. 

The torrent roared, and we did bulfet it 

With lusty sinews, throwing it aside 

And stemming it with hearts of controversy ; 

But ere we could arrive the point proposed, 

Caesar cried, "Helj) me, Cassius, or I sink!" 

I, as -lEneas, our great ancestor. 

Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder 

The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber 

Did I the tir&d Caesar. And this man 

Is now become a god, and Cassius is 

A wretched creature, and must bend his body, 

If Caesar carelessly but nod on him. 

— Julius Caesar, Act i., Sc. 3. 

These speeches of Cassio in Othello show remorse, self- 
contempt, with anger and regTet: 

Cassio. Reputation, reputation, reputation! Oh! I have lost 
my reputation. I have lost the immortal part of myself, and what 
remains is bestial. My reputation, lago, my reputation ! 

Iago. As I am an honest man, I thought you had received 
some bodily wound ; there is more sense in that than in reputation. 
Reputation is an idle and most false imposition ; oft got without 
merit, and lost without deserving: you have lost no reputation at 
all, unless you repute yourself such a loser. What, man ! there are 
ways to recover the general again: you are but now cast in his 
mood, a punishment more in policy than in malice ; even so as one 
would beat his off enseless dog, to affright an imperious lion. Sue to 
him again, and he's yours. 

Cassio. I will rather sue to be despised, than to deceive so good 
a commander with so slight, so drunken, and so indiscreet an 
officer. Drunk? and speak parrot? and squabble? swagger? swear, 
and discourse fustian with one's own shadow? O thou invisible 



183 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

spirit of wine ! if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee 
devil. 

Iago. What was he that you followed with your sword? What 
had he done to you? 

Cassio. I know not. 

Iago. Is 't possible? 

Cassio. I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly ; a 
quarrel, but nothing wherefore. O God, that men should jDut an 
enemy in their mouths, to steal away their brains ! that we should, 
with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, transform ourselves into 
beasts ! 

Iago. Why, but you are now well enough : how came you thus 
recovered? 

Cassio. It has pleased the devil drunkenness, to give place to 
the devil wrath : one unperf ectness shows me another, to make me 
frankly despise myself. 

Iago. Come, you are too severe a moraler. As the time, the 
place, and the condition of this country stands, I could heartily 
wish this had not befallen ; but, since it is as it is, mend it for your 
own good. 

Cassio. I will ask him for my place again : he shall tell me, I 
am a drunkard. Had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer 
would stop them all. To be now a sensible man, by-and-by a fool, 
and presently a beast! O, strange! Every inordinate cup is 
unblessed, and the ingredient is a deYii,— Othello, Act ii., Sc. 3. 

In conclusion, begin with simple emotions. Do not ask 
the younger pupils to represent intense pathos, great 
solemnity, and the like. Eeserve these for the upper grades 
of the high school. Again, avoid the baser emotions, such as 
anger, hate, jealousy. Time does not permit us to enlarge on 
this, but the whole trend of the best psychology is in favor of 
this admonition. Select extracts in which the characters 
manifest simple, noble, inspiring, and uplifting feeling. 
Patriotism, self-sacrifice, love of nature, these are the themes 
with which the imagination of the pupils should come into 
contact. 



EMOTION 183 

The teacher is heartily advised to gather a dozen or more 
extracts and speeches (from this book and elsewhere) under 
three or fom' significant heads, such as patriotism, love of 
nature, etc., and to keep the class at each phase until definite 
results are attained. There is no hesitation in deprecating 
the method that compels teachers to teach any lesson simply 
because it follows, numerically, the preceding lesson. The 
proper method is hinted at elsewhere. A few words are 
now added to justify that method. In many readers there 
may be two patriotic selections ; one at the beginning, one at 
the end. Probably a year will intervene between these two. 
Is it not good pedagogy to take up these lessons in succession? 
To keep the pupils in a patriotic mood for five consecutive 
days must be certainly productive of better results than can be 
obtained by the other method of Lesson I, Lesson II, Lesson 
III. So also with other emotions. When a certain emotion 
is present in only one or two paragraphs of a selection, only 
those paragraphs need, of course, to be prepared. 



CHAPTEE XII 



ATMOSPHEKE 



This element of expression, perhaps more than any other, 
manifests the artistic nature of the reader ; artistic, inasmuch 
as the atmosphere, or vocal color, shows the sensitiyeness of 
the reader to sense stimuli ; shows that he is moved by the 
contemplation of the beautiful, the sublime, the tender, the 
pathetic. This element is called by different names, but per- 
haps none is more significant than Atmosphere. This effect is 
not easy to describe, and yet it is as real as rhythm or inflection 
or any other of the elements discussed in this book. Atmos- 
phere is that sympathetic quality of voice that manifests the 
spirit of literature. Who can fail to notice the tender 
motherly sympathy that pervades every word of the lyric 
Sweet and Lotvf Now compare this with the knights' 
chorus from The Coming of Arthur. This is permeated 
throughout with the spirit of the Eound Table. The spirit 
of motherly love in the former, and of knightly courage and 
the clang of arms in the latter, completely envelop these 
poems, and permeate every letter. Therefore, in the rendering 
the reader must exercise the greatest care not to dissipate this 
atmosphere. The least misstep, one false note, and the 
atmosphere is dissipated. 

In longer selections there may be variety of atmosphere in 
the different stanzas or paragraphs, provided always that the 
variety enhances the poem as a whole. Mere variety in reading 
is not art, but chaos, says Professor Corson. 

The following lines from Matthew Arnold's Sohrab and 

184 



ATMOSPHERE 185 

Rustum^ illustrate the principle of variety in unity. The 
poem piu'ports to be an extract from the e|)ic of Eustum, the 
Persian Achilles, and is especially marked by a dignity truly 
Homeric. This atmosphere of dignity envelops every line. 
Hence pathos and joy, patriotism and defiance, scorn and con- 
tempt, and all the other emotions, are always dignified. The 
Tartar champion. Soln-ab, challenges the bravest Persian 
champion to meet him in single combat; and the Tartar 
leader, Peran-Wisa, announces the challenge. The Tartars 
love their hero, and the thrill that pervades then- army is 
significant of that love. But the Persian champion, Achilles - 
like, sulks in his tent ; and the knowledge of this fact, when 
the announcement of the challenge is heard by the Persians, 
fills them with awe and dismay. Read the following lines, 
bringing out the significant atmosphere of the two parts of the 
contrast, but being careful to beai' in mind the general 
atmosphere of dignity: 

And the old Tartar came upon the sand 
Betwixt the silent hosts, and spake, and said : — 

"Ferood, and ye, Persians and Tartars hear! 
Let there be truce between the hosts to-day. 
But choose a champion from the Persian lords 
To fight our champion Sohrab, man to man." 

As, in the country, on a morn in June, 
When the dew glistens on the pearled ears, 
A shiver runs through the deep corn for joy — 
So, when they heard what Peran-Wisa said, 
A thrill through all the Tartar squadrons ran 
Of pride and hope for Sohrab, whom they loved. 

But as a troop of peddlers from Cabool, 
Cross underneath the Indian Caucasus, 

♦It would occupy too much space to insert the complete poems men- 
tioned in this chapter. These are all, however, easily available, and it 
is hoped that the teacher will read them. 



186 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

The vast sky -neighboring mountain of milk snow ; 
Crossing so high, that, as they mount, they pass 
Long flocks of traveling birds dead, on the snow, 
Choked by the air, and scarce can they themselves 
Slake their parch' d throats with sugar 'd mulberries — 
In single file they move and stop their breath. 
For fear they should dislodge the o'erhanging snows — 
So the pale Persians held their breath with fear. 

The reader must also bear in mind that from the very 
beginning of each picture the atmosphere of joy and fear 
respectively must be in the mind, and must never be lost sight 
of under any circumstances. 

Sometimes the atmosphere is modified by the fact that the 
speaker is quoting the words of another person, and then it is 
often a matter of the most subtle analysis to determine the 
extent to which the quoted words will modify the atmosphere 
of the reader, whether speaking in his own person or in the 
person of another. 

There are two kinds of literature that must be considered 
in this connection. First, that class in which the reader tells 
the story in his own person. Second, when the reading is a 
personation throughout. An example of the first class is 
The Idyls of the King; and of the second, the "Instiga- 
tion" speech of Cassius in Julius Caesar. The principle 
governing atmosphere applies equally and in the same way to 
both kinds of selections. The knowledge of this fact will 
often be valuable to the reader. 

"We get a good example in the "Instigation" speech, 
where Cassius tells Brutus that Caesar, when he had a fever, 
cried, " 'Give me some drink, Titinius,' as a sick girl." 
The whole matter of atmosphere, as far as quoted words are 
concerned, will be made clear by a study of this simple 
passage. Cassius is so exercised over the success of Caesar 
and his own consequent humiliation, that his scorn and rage 



ATMOSPHERE 187 

are well-nigh boundless. As the torrent of his emotion rnshes 
forth, is it not entu-ely inconsistent with our knowledge of 
human nature to suppose that that torrent would be so 
impeded or arrested when Cassius came to the above words, 
that he would stop to reproduce the actual manner and tones 
of Caesar? What Cassius probably does is to suggest some- 
thing of the effeminate manner of Caesar enveloped in Cassius' 
own atmosphere of bitterest loathing and contempt. One 
will be helped in work of this kind by asking himself the ques- 
tion. What is the atmosphere of the speaker? Then, having 
determined this, he must next make up his mind, through his 
knowledge of human nature, to what extent this atmosphere 
is modified by the quoted words that are introduced into the 
body of the story. He may be assisted in determining this 
by putting a second question to himself, Is what the quoted 
words convey, or the manner in which they are conveyed, of 
the greater importance? This is well illustrated in King 
Robert of Sicily. It makes no difference in this particular 
poem how the sexton uttered the words, "Who is there?" and, 
consequently, it would be a mistake to give them any very 
significant atmosphere. As a matter of fact, the words are 
really equivalent to indirect discourse; the exj)ression would 
convey exactly the same meaning to the listener if read. 
Asking who was within. The following from King Lear is 
full of suggestiveness in this connection. We recall that 
Kent has sent a gentleman to Cordelia to tell her of the con- 
dition of her father. Later in the drama, Kent meets the 
gentleman, and from him gets the story of the manner in 
which Cordelia received the sad news of her father's suffering. 
How truly ridiculous it would be for the gentleman to imitate 
the manner of Cordelia! The psychological explanation of 
what happens is probably this : As he relates the story to 
Kent, the tearful face and voice of Cordelia come into his 



188 HEADING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

mind, and, since there is always in human nature a tendency 
to become that which one describes, something of the manner 
of Cordelia will be suggested in the voice of the speaker ; but 
let us bear in mind that the imitation is not intentional 
and detailed, but instinctive and suggestive only. It is not 
meant that the reader is not conscious of what he is doing, 
but that the gentleman (to use a concrete illustration) is not 
consciously imitating Cordelia. The artistic reader in 
reproducing this scene is conscious of what he is doing, but 
consciously sympathetic, not imitative : 

Kent. Did your letters pierce the queen to any demonstration 
of grief? 

Gentleman. Ay, sir ; she took them, read them in my presence ; 
And now and then an ample tear trilled down 
Her delicate cheek : it seemed, she was a queen 
Over her passion, who, most rebel-like, 
Sought to be king o'er her. 

Kent. O, then it moved her. 

Gentleman, Not to a rage : patience and sorrow strove 
Who should express her goodliest. You have seen 
Sunshine and rain at once ; her smiles and tears 
Were like a better May: those happy smilets 
That played on her ripe lip, seemed not to know 
What guests were in her eyes, which parted thence 
As pearls from diamonds dropped. — In brief. 
Sorrow would be a rarity most beloved, 
If all could so become it. 

Kent. Made she no verbal question? 

Gentleman. 'Faith, once, or twice, she heav'd the name of 
"father," 
Pantingly forth, as if it pressed her heart ; 
Cried, "Sisters! sisters! Shame of ladies! sisters! 
Kent ! father ! sisters ! What? i' the storm? i' the night? 
Let pity not be believed!" — There she shook 
The holy water from her heavenly eyes. 
And clamor moistened : then away she started 
To deal with grief alone. — King Lear, Act iv. , Sc. 3. 



ATMOSPHERE 189 

This leads to another feature of the study of atmosphere. 
In the following lines from the Elegy m « Country Church- 
yard^ we certainly speak slowly; but let it be remembered 
that this is done, not in imitation of the slow movement of 
the objects described, but in sympathy with them. The 
solemnity and dignity of the occasion so a Sect us that our 
movement becomes slow, and this movement and the right 
vocal quality give us the proper atmosphere. 

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, 
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, 

The plowman homeward plods his weary way. 
And leaves the world to darkness and to me. 

Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight. 

And all the air a solemn stillness holds, 
Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, 

And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds : 

Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower. 
The moping owl does to the moon complain 

Of such as, wandering near her secret bower. 
Molest her ancient solitary reign. 

Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, 
Where heaves the turf in many a moldering heap, 

Each in his narrow cell forever laid, 
The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. 

Let us remember, too, that an event which once filled us 
with joy may be recalled with pain and sorrow, and that it is 
our present condition that determines the atmosphere. Brown- 
ing's Patriot will illustrate this. 

The untrained reader is altogether too prone to imitation ; 
but let him bear in mind that imitation, if ever art, is its 
lowest form. The province of the reader is to manifest, 
through his interpretation, the innermost spirit of the poem. 
Very often by imitating, by literally reproducing the voice, man- 



190 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

ner, and movements, we obscure the underlying spirit of the 
line, paragraph or poem. There are certain readers, for 
instance, who sing, Non ti scordar di me, in Aux Italiens. 
For the sake of argument, we might admit, that at the end of 
the poem there might be some slightest justification for this 
procedure ; but in the beginning, it is absolutely indefensible. 
The speaker is in a deep reverie; he dwells in the past. His 
mind goes back to a visit to the opera-house in Paris, years 
before. The opera is II Trovatore; and the heroine comes 
before us seeking her lover, who has been snatched from her 
arms through the jealousy of another. She arrives before the 
monastery as the monks chant the Miserere. Her prayer 
ascends heavenward; and when she ceases, there rises clear 
and passionately the voice of her lover from within his cell, 
singing, Non ti scordar di ?ne (Forget me not). As the audi- 
ence in the opera-house hear these words, then- minds go back 
to the past. The king goes back to his early triumphs ; the 
queen's mind reverts to her life in Spain; the wife of the 
Marquis of Carabas lets her thoughts glide back to her first 
husband; and to the speaker's mind there comes the vision of 
his early love. Noii ti scordar di me, then, is the source of 
the poem. The tie that binds us to the past is the poet's 
theme, "Old things are best." Now let us look at the stanza 
at the end of which occurs the line we are discussing : 

The moon on the tower slept soft as snow, 
And who was not thrilled in the strangest way, 
As we heard him sing while the gas burned low, 
'''Non ti scordar di me." 

In the first place, when one sings these lines, he is just a little 
likely to be deemed presumptuous when it is recalled that 
the previous stanza has said : 

And Mario can soothe with a tenor note, 
The souls in purgatory. 



ATMOSPHERE 191 

It is hardly likely that the reader is a Mario ; but this is a 
small criticism, comparatively speaking. The atmosphere of 
the poem is one of reverie ; and what possesses the speaker is 
not the literal way the words were sung, but the memory of 
the thrill that passed through him and through the audience 
as these words rang out in a pause of the solemn Miserere of 
the monks. Let it be borne in mind that the argument is 
not against the singing as singing, but against the method 
that would completely destroy the atmosphere of the poem 
for the sake of a vocal affectation. What should be expressed 
is the rapture of the speaker as he recalls those passionate 
words and tones, in his present moment of contemplation. 
There are certain reprints of this poem that leave out the 
stanzas describing the effect of the song on the king, the queen, 
and the marchioness. Does this not prove that those who 
print such versions have missed the very essence of the story? 

There is one more element that we are to discuss in this 
connection, and that is the atmosphere of sympathy that 
envelops the reading of description. This atmosphere shows 
the effect upon us of that which the author describes. 

The tendency of most readers is toward imitation, — to 
groan and moan, and laugh and cry, whenever these words 
appear in the selection interpreted. In such passages as the 
following from Aldi'ich's Face Against the Pane^ we have 
heard more than one reader imitate the screeching and the 
moaning, and the groaning and the breaking : 

She hears the sea bird screech, 
And the breakers on the beach 
Making moan, making moan. 

And again, in the same poem, we have heard imitations of the 
tolling bells in : 

How it tolls for the souls 
Of the sailors on the sea'i 



19^ READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

In these passages and all similar ones, as, for instance, those 
already quoted from the Elegy in a Country Churchyard^ 
our aim should be to manifest through the atmosphere 
the effect of the description upon ourselves. 

Perhaps it will assist us to get a clearer conception of this 
important feature if we discuss a few typical examples, even 
repeating some of the selections already used in the discussion. 

Example 1 (from Sohral) and Rustum). The atmosphere 
of the first simile is that of joy ; not in imitation of the joy of 
the Tartars, but because we are moved to joy by our sympathy 
with Sohrab. 

Example 2 {lUd.). We do not express the fear of the 
Persians or of the peddlers, but our contempt for the former 
— perhaps slightly tinged, through sympathy, with their fear. 

Exa^nple 3 (from King Robert of Sicily). The atmos- 
phere is that of simple narrative, which is in no wise changed 
by the words of the sexton. 

Example Jf. Eugene Field's Little Boy Blue presents a 
father standing before the dust-covered toys of his dead child. 
The father speaks throughout, and yet there are those who 
actually imitate the voice and manner of the child in the 
opening lines of the second stanza : 

*'Now don't you go till I come," he said, 

"And don't you make any noise;" 
So toddling off to his trundle-bed 

He dreamt of the pretty toys. 

It is the father we want, not the child. 

Example 5 (from the Elegy in a Country Churchyard). 
We read the passage slowly, not because we desire to imitate 
the slow movement of the objects described, but because we 
are impressed by their solemnity. 

It may be thought that the principle here discussed has no 



ATMOSPHERE 193 

value except for advanced pupils or for those who desire to 
make a specialty of reading. This is a grave error and one 
that has had much to do with the spiritless reading of oiir 
schools. At least one-half of the selections in our readers, 
above the second, present opportunities for the expression of 
what we have termed sympathy. In the chapter on 
Values we observed that there were ever-varying phases of 
thought and feeling, each one of which would be read with a 
different atmosphere. Let us look at another complete poem 
solely with a view to applying the principles of phases and of 
atmosphere : 

Gusty and raw was the morningv- 

A fog hung over the seas, 
And its gray skirts, rolhng inland. 

Were torn by the mountain-trees. 
No sound was heard but the dashing 

Of waves on the sandy bar. 
When Pablo of San Diego 

Rode down to the Paso del Mar. 8 

The pescador, out in his shallop. 

Gathering his harvest so wide. 
Sees the dim bulk of the headland 

Loom over the waste of the tide ; 
He sees, like a white thread, the pathway 

Wind round on the terrible wall. 
Where the faint, moving speck of the rider 

Seems hovering close to its fall ! 16 

Stout Pablo of San Diego 

Rode down from the hills behind ; 
With the bells on his gray mule tinkling, 

He sang through the fog and wind. 
Under his thick, misted eyebrows 

Twinkled his eye like a star. 
And fiercer he sang as the sea- winds 

Drove cold on the Paso del Mar. 24 



194 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Now Bernal, the herdsman of Corral, 

Had traveled the shore since dawn. 
Leaving the ranches behind him : 

Good reason had he to be gone ! 
The blood was still red on his dagger, 

The fury was hot in his brain. 
And the chill, driving scud of the breakers 

Beat thick on his forehead in vain. 33 

With his blanket wrapped gloomily round him 

He mounted the dizzying road, 
And the chasms and steeps of the headland 

Were slippery and wet as he trode. 
Wild swept the wind of the ocean, 

Eolling the fog from afar, 
When near him a mule-bell came tinkling, 

Midway on the Paso del Mar. 40 

"Back!" shouted Bernal full fiercely. 

And "Back!" shouted Pablo in wrath, 
As his mule halted, startled and shrinking, 

On the perilous line of the path. 
The roar of devouring surges 

Came up from the breakers' hoarse war ; 
And "Back, or you perish!" cried Bernal; 

"I turn not on Paso del Mar!" 48 

The gray mule stood firm as the headland; 

He clutched at the jingling rein, 
When Pablo rose up in his saddle 

And smote till he dropped it again. 
A wild oath of passion swore Bernal, 

And brandished his dagger still red ; 
While fiercely stout Pablo leaned forward, 

And fought o'er his trusty mule's head. 56 

They fought till the black wall below them 

Shone red through the misty blast. 
Stout Pablo then struck, leaning farther, 

The broad breast of Bernal at last ; 



ATMOSPHERE 195 

And, frenzied with pain, the swart herdsman 
Closed round him with terrible clasp, 

And jerked him, despite of his struggles, 
Down from the mule in his grasp. 64 

They grappled with desperate madness 

On the slippery edge of the wall ; 
They swayed on the brink, and together 

Reeled out to the rush of the fall ! 
A cry of the wildest death-anguish 

Rang faint through the mist afar. 
And the riderless mule went homeward 

From the fight of the Paso del Mar ! 72 

—The Fight of Paso del Mar. Bayard Taylor. 

1. 1-4. — Simple description, the last line slightly colored 
with emotion. 

1. 5, 6. — Kote how the voice becomes suppressed in 
sympathy with the picture. 

1. 7, 8. — Simple description. 

1. 9-12. — Simple description. 

1. 13-16. — The important part this pathway is to play in 
the poem and the danger of the rider will bring the sugges- 
tion of fear into the voice of the reader. It is the effect of 
the picture upon us that we must manifest ; this is half the 
art of reading. 

1. 17-24. — The joy of Pablo will find an echo in our 
reading, as will his joyous defiance in 1. 23, 24. 

1. 25-27. — Simple description to "behind him," when 
the coming event casts its shadow before; the color of the 
next line is clearly anticipated on these two words. 

1. 28. — The atmosphere is difficult to characterize in a 
word, but not to manifest. 

1. 29-32.^N'ote the marked change. The atmosphere is 
largely that of sympathy — fury and dogged, gloomy determi- 



196 EEADING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

nation. Perhaps there might be something of our horror and 
loathing in 1. 29. 

1. 33-36. — Simple description. 

1. 37, 38.— Sympathy. 

1. 39, 40.— Brighter. 

1. 41, 42. — The'atmosphere is that of the speakers. 

1. 43, 44. — Our fear of a fatal misstep. 

1. 45, 46.— The effect upon us, not imitation of the roar. 

1. 47, 48. — Anger and determination. 

1. 49.— See 1. 45, 46. 

1. 50-56. — Virtually the same atmosphere, throughout, of 
terror, strife, determination, hate. 

1. 57, 58.— Oh! the pity of it. 

1. 59-64.— See 1. 50-56. 

1. 65-68. — Terror and fear increase until the climax on 
"fall." 

1. 69, 70.— Terror and pity. 

1. 71. — Observe the transition. Eestrained pathos to the 
end. 

The most important fact to be borne in mind in endeavor- 
ing to develop the pupil's S3^mpathy with what he describes is 
this : imitation of sounds, and of gestures, and of movement, 
is a very low order of art. We can not imitate thunder, but we 
can show in our voices the awe that it inspires. When we 
unconsciously hurry our reading under the impulse the imagi- 
nation receives from contemplating, let us say, the rapid 
movement of a cavalry charge, we do so not in imitation of, 
but in sympathy with, the picture. This is not primarily a 
question of art, but of nature. It is only ignorant teaching 
that says to a pupil, "Is that the way the thunder roars?" or 
*'Eead more rapidly; don't you see that you are describing 
the flight of the horses?" Furthermore, if we read slowly a 
passage describing a funeral procession, there is no conscious 



ATMOSPHERE 197 

imitation of slowness, but a sympathy with the solemnity, 
stateliness and dignity of the occasion. 

A very little observation will show us whether the imitation 
is conscious or sympathetic. In the former case, the voice 
will be expressing merely speed or slowness. In the latter, 
there will be speed or slowness, too, but accompanied by an 
indefinable and yet recognizable quality of voice, which is the 
expression of our sympathy. This is an infallible criterion. 

Lastly, it must be urged that we give more time to this 
work. The imagination cannot be developed in a week or a 
month; and unless there is imagination, there can be no 
sympathy. It is difficult to restrain one's self and not dwell 
longer on the value of the training of the imagination. We have 
no hesitation in saying that that feature of education is the 
most neglected. Such training as is here suggested will, in 
many cases, do much to bring about a more favorable condi- 
tion of affairs. But it takes time, and plenty of it. The 
teacher should read to the class quite often such passages as 
are likely to stimulate the imagination. Make the class follow 
attentively and get them to give back the picture, as far as 
possible, in minutest detail. Do this again and again and 
improvement must follow. Just in proportion as the imagi- 
nation is stimulated may we hope for a better class of reading. 
We have no time to teach any subject poorly! 

This phase of the subject may be presented to pupils in 
some such manner as this : 

Let me tell you a story : 

The other day, a httle child came to its mother, saying, "Oh, 
mother ! I just saw a beautiful toy in the window : I wish you would 
buy it for me." Tlie sweet voice icas full of pleading. The mother 
was very poor, and had hardly earned enough to pay for fuel. 
How could she spare even the few pennies for the toy? But she said 
to herself, "This is Christmas time;" and the tears came into her 
eyes. The little one saw the tears, and said: "What are you crying 



198 EEADING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

for, mother?" And then the mother hugged her child to her breast 
and hissed her again and again, saying over and over, "Because I 
love you! Because I love you!" 

When Christmas morning dawned the little toy was on the man- 
tel and the child was happy. But when the time for breakfast 
came, the child asked her mother why she did not eat; and the 
mother answered, "I am not hungry, darling; don't mind me," and 
she smiled tenderly upon the sweet face, upturned to kiss her. 

After you have read this simple tale two or three times, I think 
you will begin to feel some sympathy with the loving mother who 
would do without her food to give joy to her little child. When 
you read the sentences I have put in italics, if you have really tried 
to see the pictures, I am sure you will feel some sympathy that will 
make your reading so different from the reading of, let us say, the 
first sentence in this lesson. Take the line, "The sweet voice was 
full of pleading." Can't you imagine some sweet child-voice plead- 
ing for the toy? Well, then, listen to that voice, and after you 
have, then read, "The sweet voice was full of pleading." You will 
find that your voice will be so full of sympathy that it will say not 
only the words, but also will express love, and tenderness, and sym- 
pathy. You will think, perhaps, some such tliought as, "She was 
such a lovely child and she wanted the toy so much. It made me 
feel sorry to hear her ask for it. ' ' There is another sentence in 
italics that I want you to think about. When you read, "And the 
tears came into her eyes, ' ' can you not feel something of the sadness 
of that mother, as she thinks how much she would like to buy the 
toy, and yet there is nothing to buy it with? When you express 
your feeling, your voice will say, "And the mother's heart was sad 
when she thought that her darling could have no little gift at 
Christmas, when it seemed everyone should be made happy. How 
disappointed the sweet one would be when she found out how 
many toys her playmates had while she had not one!" All these 
thoughts will run through your mind if you will only think about 
this scene long enough, and then your voice will express that sym- 
pathy with the picture you are describing without which you can 
never be a good reader. Let us then close this lesson by reminding 
you that the best way to develop our feelings as we read is through 
sympathy. 

There are several other phrases and sentences in this story that I 
want you to study sympathetically for to-morrow's lesson. Then, 



ATMOSPHERE 199 

after you have grasped the idea of this lesson, be sure, in every 
selection you read hereafter, that you do not fail to pay particular 
attention to sympathy. 

Let us, in closing this long but most vital discussion, 
direct attention in a few words to the psychology of the 
atmosphere of description. When we are giving the descrip- 
tion for its own sake, desiring simply to impress the picture 
upon the audience, we should probably use the normal quality. 
To illustrate: 

A fellow in a market-town, 

Most musical, cried "Razors!" up and down, 

And offered twelve for eighteen pence ; 
Which certainly seemed wondrous cheap, 
And for the money quite a heap, 

As every man would buy, with cash and sense. 

When, however, we ai'e somewhat moved tln-ough the contem- 
plation of what we see, when it takes possession of us, we 
should be likely to manifest our feeling in a suggestive imita- 
tion of the object described. See the third stanza of TJie 
Fight of Paso del Mar. The third stage is reached when the 
picture moves us to such an extent that imitation and sug- 
gestion disappeai', and we show merely our own feelings. 
See lines 69 and 70 of the same poem. In reading these we 
do not utter the cry, nor do we show the death anguish, but 
our own feelings of pity and perhaps terror. There is a 
fourth stage, in which the conditions of the second and third 
are blended. Again we may use the same poem as an illus- 
tration. In lines 53 and 54, one could conceive a reader 
partaking through sympathy of the passion of Bernal, and 
yet manifesting his own feeling of fear and horror at the same 
time. 

It is believed that this classification is psychologically 
sound, and that it will repay close study. It need hardly be 



200 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

added tliat the attention of the pupil is not to be drawn to 
the details. Selections for practice follow : 

As thro' the land at eve we went, 

And pluck' d the ripen' d ears, 
We fell out, my wife and I, 
O we fell out I know not why, 

And kiss'd again with tears. 
And blessings on the falling out 

That all the more endears. 
When we fall out with those we love 

And kiss again with tears. 
For when we came where lies the child 

We lost in other years. 
There above the little grave, 
O there above the little grave, . 

We kiss'd again with tears. 

— The Princess. Tennyson. 

The essence of these exquisite lines is in their tender sim- 
plicity. 

Sweet and low, sweet and low, 

Wind of the western sea, 
Low, low, breathe and blow. 

Wind of the western sea ! 
Over the rolling waters go. 
Come from the dying moon, and blow 

Blow him again to me ; 
While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. 

Sleep and rest, sleep and rest. 

Father will come to thee soon ; 
Rest, rest, on mother's breast, 

Father will come to thee soon ; 
Father will come to his babe in the nest. 
Silver sails all out of the west 

Under the silver moon : 
Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep. 

—Ibid. 



ATMOSPHERE 201 

Blow trumpet, for the world is white with May ; 
Blow trumpet, the long night hath roll'd away! 
Blow thro' the living world — "Let the King reign." 

Shall Rome or Heathen rule in Arthur's realm? 
Flash brand and lance, fall battleaxe uj)on helm, 
Fall battleaxe, and flash brand ! Let the King reign. 

Strike for the King, and live ! his knights have heard 

That God hath told the King a secret word. 

Fall battleaxe, and flash brand ! Let the King reign. 

blow trumpet ! he will lift us from the dust. 
Blow trumpet ! live the strength and die the lust ! 
Clang battleaxe, and clash brand ! Let the King reign. 

Strike for the king and die ! and if thou diest. 
The King is King, and ever wills the highest. 
Clang battleaxe, and clash brand ! Let the King reign. 

Blow, for our Son is mighty in his May ! 

Blow, for our Son is mightier day by day ! 

Clang battleaxe, and clash brand ! Let the King reign. 

The King will follow Christ, and we the King 
In whom high God hath breathed a secret thing. 
Fall battleaxe, and flash brand ! Let the King reign. 
— "Knights' Chorus" from The Coming of Arthur, Tennyson. 

It would hardly be appropriate to imitate the blow of the 
trumpet ; and, striking as the effect would be, it would not 
be the highest art to have an accompaniment of clanging arms. 

But Rustum eyed askance the kneeling youth, 
And turn'd away, and spake to his own soul: — 

"Ah me, I muse what this young fox may mean I 
False, wily, boastful, are these Tartar boys. 
For if I now confess this thing he asks, 
And hide it not, but say: 'Rustum is here!' 
He will not yield indeed, nor quit our foes, 
But he will find some pretext not to fight. 
And praise my fame, and proffer courteous gifts, 
A belt or sword perhaps, and go his way. 



202 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

And on a feast tide, in Airasiab's hall, 
In Samarcand, he will arise and cry : 
'I challenged once, when the two armies camp'd 
Beside the Oxus, all the Persian lords 
To cope with me in single Jfight ; but they 
Shrank, only Rustum dared ; then he and I 
Changed gifts, and went on equal terms away. ' 
So will he speak, perhaps, while men applaud ; 
Then were the chiefs of Iran shamed through me," 

— Sohrab and Rustum. M. Arnold. 

Note that when Rustum utters the supposed words of 
Sohrab he would still speak in the musing mood. It is still 
the voice and manner of Rustum, with the faint suggestion of 
the other's supposed boast fulness. 

He spoke, and Sohrab kindled at his taunts, 
And he too drew his sword ; at once they rush'd 
Together, as two eagles on one prey 
Come rushing down together from the clouds. 
One from the east, one from the west ; their shields 
Dash'd with a clang together, and a din 
Rose, such as that the sinewy woodcutters 
Make often in the forest's heart at morn, 
Of hewing axes, crashing trees — such blows 
Rustum and Sohrab on each other hail'd. 
And you would say that sun and stars took part 
In that unnatural conflict ; for a cloud 
Grew suddenly in heaven, and dark'd the sun 
Over the fighters' heads ; and a wind rose 
Under their feet, and moaning swept the plain. 
And in a sandy whirlwind wrapp'd the pair. 
In gloom they twain were wrapp'd, and they alone; 
For both the on-looking hosts on either hand 
Stood in broad daylight, and the sky was pure. 
And the sun sparkled on the Oxus stream. 
But in the gloom they fought, with bloodshot eyes 
And laboring breath : -first Rustum struck the shield 
Which Sohrab held stiff out ; the steel-spiked spear 



ATMOSPHERE - 203 

Rent the tough plates, but fail'd to reach the skin, 

And Riistum pluck' d it back with angry gToan. 

Then Sohrab with his sword smote Rustum's helm, 

Nor cloYe its steel quite through ; but all the crest 

He shore away, and that proud horsehair plume, 

Never till now defiled, sank to the dust ; 

And Rustum bow'd his head; but then the gloom 

Grew blacker, thunder rumbled in the air, 

And lightnings rent the cloud ; and Ruksh, the horse, 

Who stood at hand, utter 'd a dreadful cry ; — 

No horse's cry was that, most like the roar 

Of some pain'd desert lion, who all day 

Hath trail' d the hunter's javelin in his side, 

And comes at night to die upon the sand. 

The two hosts heard that cry, and quaked for fear, 

And Oxus curdled as it cross' d his stream. 

— Sohrab and Rustum. M. Arnold. 

The above is an interesting illustration. We are not to be 
eagles and the wind and the sand, but to manifest the awe 
which oyerwhelnis us as we describe the terrible struggle of 
this father and son, each ignorant of the identity of the other. 

As when some hunter in the spring hath found 
A breeding eagle sitting on her nest, 
Upon the craggy isle of a hill lake, 
And pierced her with an arrow as she rose. 
And follow 'd her to find her where she fell 
Far off ; — anon her mate comes winging back 
From hunting, and a great way off descries 
His huddling young left sole ; at that, he checks 
His pinion, and with short uneasy sweeps 
Circles above his eyry, with loud screams 
Chiding his mate back to her nest ; but she 
Lies dying, with the arrow in her side. 
In some far stony gorge out of his ken, 
A heap of fluttering feathers — never more 
Shall the lake glass her, flying over it ; 
Never the black and dripping precipices 



204 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Echo her stormy scream as she sails by — 
As that poor bird flies home, nor knows his loss, 
So Eustum knew not his own loss, but stood 
Over his dying son. and knew him not. 

— Sohrab and Rusfum. M. Arnold. 

Eustum bas mortally wounded his son in the combat, and now 
the poet introduces the exquisite simile given above. It is a 
fine study in the reading of description. 



CHAPTER XIII 

CONTRASTS 

It is because contrasts are a distinct featiu-e of literature 
that it is well to make the study of them and their vocal pres- 
entation a feature of the reading course. It is understood, 
of course, that the teacher must use his discretion as to the 
time when the definite study of contrasts should be under- 
taken; but when clearly presented and discriminatingly illus- 
trated, even young children can be led to perceive the artistic 
value of contrast, to enjoy it as art, and to manifest their 
appreciation of it in their reading. It should not be difficult 
to show young children that Cinderella's character is made to 
appear more lovable because it is set over against those of her 
sisters. Children enjoy such effects as well as adults, when 
pleasantly and suggestively presented to them. 

In literature there are found illustrations of contrast upon 
every page. There are contrasts of ideas, contrasts of emo- 
tions, contrasts of scenes, contrasts of characters, and many 
others. Under the head of "The Central Idea" will be found 
numerous examples of the first class. We shall here consider 
a few illustrations of the other classes, while in later pages will 
be found illustrations for more extended study. 

Contrast of emotion is admirably illustrated in the follow- 
ing scene from The Merchant of Venice, Act iii., Sc. 1: 

Shylock. How now, Tubal ! what news from Genoa? hast thou 
found my daughter? 

Tubal. I often came where I did hear of her, but cannot find 
her. 

Shylock. Why there, there, there, there ! a diamond gone, cost 
me two thousand ducats in Frankfort ! The curse never fell upon 



206 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

our nation till now ; I never felt it till now : — two thousand ducats 
in that ; and other precious, precious jewels. I would my daughter 
were dead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear ! would she were 
hearsed at my foot, and the ducats in her coffin ! No news of them? 
Why so; — and I know not what's spent in the search: why, thou 
loss upon loss ! the thief gone with so much, and so much to find 
the thief; and no satisfaction, no revenge: nor no ill luck stirring 
but what lights on my shoulders ; no sighs but of my breathing ; 
no tears but of my shedding. 

Tubal. Yes, other men have ill luck too. Antonio, as I heard 
in Genoa, — 

Shylock. What, what, what? ill luck, ill luck? 

Tubal. Hath an argosy cast away, coming from Tripolis. 

Shylock. I thank God, I thank God! Is it true, is it true? 

Tubal. I spoke with some of the sailors that escaped the wreck. 

Shylock. I thank thee, good Tubal. Good news, good news! 
ha, ha! — Where? in Genoa? 

Tubal. Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, one night 
fourscore ducats. 

Shylock. Thou stick'st a dagger in me ; I shall never see my 
gold again. Fourscore ducats at a sitting ! fourscore ducats ! 

Tubal. There came divers of Antonio's creditors in my com- 
pany to Venice, that swear he cannot choose but break. 

Shylock. I am very glad of it: I'll plague him; I'll torture 
him : I am glad of it. 

Tubal. One of them showed me a ring that he had of your 
daughter for a monkey. 

Shylock. Out upon her ! Thou torturest me. Tubal : it was my 
turquoise ; I had it of Leah when I was a bachelor. I would not 
have given it for a wilderness of monkeys. 

Tubal. But Antonio is certainly undone. 

Shylock. Nay, that's true, that's very true. Go, Tubal, fee me 
an officer ; bespeak him a fortnight before. I will have the heart of 
him, if he forfeit ; for, were he out of Venice, I can make 'what 
merchandise I will. Go, go, Tubal, and meet me at our synagogue; 
go, good Tubal ; at our synagogue, Tubal. 

We cannot fail to remark how the contrast between Shylock 's 
emotions (when bemoaning the loss of his ducats at one 



CONTRASTS 207 

moment, and cursing the daughter who has robbed him and 
eloped with a Christian at another) serves to bring out his 
peculiar character. 

Contrast of character is brought out in every great play. 
Horatio and Hamlet, Cordelia and her sisters, Macbeth and 
his wife, suggest themselves as examples. The third act of 
King Lear^ where the jester's jibes are interpolated between 
the fearful outbursts of the king, is a striking example of 
character, as well as of emotional contrast. 

It may be well to remark that the two parts of a contrast 
do not always occur in succession. Do not the last three or 
four speeches of Shylock depend, for their effect, upon the keep- 
ing in mind by the audience of his emotions and bearing during 
the former scenes? Let the audience forget these, and they have 
lost a most significant aesthetic detail. Similarly, when King 
Eobert utters the speech beginning, "Thou knowest best," 
the whole effect is lost unless we bear in mind that never for 
three years has his answer to the angel's question been other 
than, "I am, I am the king." 

The following examples will afford good practice : 

Sheltered by the verdant shores, an himdred^triremes were riding 
proudly at their anchors, their brazen beaks glittering in the sun, 
their streamers dancing in the morning breeze, while many a shat- 
tered plank and timber gave evidence of desperate conflicts with the 
fleets of Rome. — Regulus to the Carthaginians. Kellogg. 

The multitude swayed to and^fro like a forest beneath a tempest, 
and the rage and hate of that tumultuous throng vented itself in 
groans, and curses, and yells of vengeance. But calm, cold and 
immovable as the marble walls around him'stood the Roman. — Tbid. 

If there be three in all your company dare face me on the bloody 
sands, let them come on. And yet I was not always thus, a hired 
butcher, a savage chief of still more savage men ! My ancestors 
came from old Sparta, and settled among the vine-clad rocks and 



208 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

citron groves of Syrasella. My early life ran quiet as the brooks by 
which I sported ; and when at noon I gathered the sheep beneath 
the shade, and played upon the shepherd's flute, there was a friend 
to join me in the pastime. . . . One evening, my grandsire, an old 
man, was telling of Marathon and Leuctra, and how, in ancient 
times, a little band of Spartans, in a defile of the mountains, had 
withstood a whole army. I did not then know what war was ; but 
my cheeks burned, and I clasped the knees of that venerable man, 
until my mother, parting the hair from off my forehead, kissed my 
throbbing temples and bade me go to rest, and think no more of 
those old tales and savage wars. That very night the Romans 
landed on our coast. I saw the breast that had nourished me 
trampled by the hoof of the war-horse, and the bleeding body of my 
father flung amidst the blazing rafters of our dwelling ! — Spartacus. 
Kellogg. 

O Rome, Rome, thou hast been a tender nurse to me ! Ay, thou 
hast given to that poor, gentle, timid shepherd lad, who never 
knew a harsher tone than a flute note, muscles of iron and a heart of 
flint; taught him to gaze into the glaring eyeballs of the fierce 
Numidian lion, even as a boy upon a laughing girl. — Ibid. 

The shouts of revelry had died away. — Ibid. 

The roar of the lion had ceased. — Ibid. 

You all do know this mantle : I remember 

The first time ever Caesar put it on ; 

'Twas on a summer's evening in his tent. 

That day he overcame the Nervii. 

Look ! in this place ran Cassius' dagger through. 

— Julius Caesar, Act iii., Sc. 2. 

The selection entitled the "Ohoric Song,'* a part of 
Tennyson's The Lotos-Eaters., is a fine study in contrast. 
The speakers are the followers of Ulysses, who are debating 
whether they shall remain in this new found land of the Lotos 
or return to their homes. The first, third, fifth, and seventh 
stanzas are in striking contrast to the others. The feelings of 



CONTRASTS 209 

tlie sailors as they alternately contemplate their life as it is 
and has been, in contrast with what it might be should they 
remain here, are strikingly depicted. 

The subject of contrasts may be presented to the class in 
some such manner as the following : 

Have you not noticed how much brighter the sunlight seems to 
be after a thunder-shower? how keenly we enjoy a victory after 
defeat seems certain? Why is this? Because the clouds by their 
blackness make us appreciate the sunlight ; and the fear of losing 
the contest makes us doubly glad when we win. If we had sun- 
shine all the time, how monotonous it would be, and how little we 
should notice it ! And you must see that if the other side in a con- 
test were very weak, we should not derive much pleasure from the 
outcome. All nature is full of these contrasts: joy and sorrow, 
light and darkness, success and failure, are always around us. So 
literature, which deals with nature, contains these contrasts, too. 

In literature, the contrast is used to impress upon us some idea 
or picture more completely than could be done by merely describing 
it. This is done by placing before us the idea and its opposite : it is 
like placing a dark screen behind a white marble statue. This 
being so, we can easily see how necessary it is for us to recognize 
these contrasts in order that we may present them with our voices 
to the listeners. 

Let us take a few simple examples. Our grandparents tell us 
that it took them sixty days to cross the ocean from England to 
America; and now, we know, it takes but six. The best way to 
show how great an advance this century has made in boat-building 
would be by contrasting the'past and the present. We might say : 
"It took my grandparents sixty days, in a sailing vessel, to cross the 
ocean, but now we go by steam in six. " 

Again: "Last week I was sleighing and skating in Minneapolis; 
but to-day I am plucking violets and japonicas in the gardens of 
Savannah." 

In both examples you observe that the concluding idea of the 
sentence is made more striking because of the contrast it makes 
with the first part. Be sure to bear this in mind. A contrast is 
made up of two ideas, and you must have both of them in mind or 
your reading will be a failure. Do you not see that this is true? If 



210 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

you were to say ''I am plucking violets in Savannah to-day," there 
would be very little emotion shown in your voice : you would be 
making just an ordinary statement. But if you were thinking of 
the great change you had made; how strange it was that you 
should be in the midst of winter one week and in the midst of spring 
the next, then the contrast would be such a pleasant one that your 
voice would be full of joy, and your joy would be largely the result 
of the contrast. If you had violets all the year round, perhaps you 
would hardly notice them. 

Here are two more examples of contrast, more diflScult to 
express, but more beautiful than the others. 

Imagine a noble warrior whose whole life is devoted to good 
deeds. Imagine him as he speaks the following words descriptive 
of the old time tournament. Then imagine how grateful he would 
feel for the relief after the fierce struggle, a relief so beautifully 
described by the author : 

My good blade carves the casques of men, 

My tough lance thrusteth sure, 
My strength is as the strength of ten, 

Because my heart is pure. 
The shattering trumpet shrilleth high, 

The hard brands shiver on the steel, 
The splintered spear-shafts crack and fly, 

The horse and rider reel. 
They reel, they roll, in clanging lists, 

And when the tide of combat stands, 
Perfume and flowers fall in showers, 

That lightly rain from ladies' hands. 

— Sir Galahad. Tennyson. 

In this next example, we have the picture of a king who is pun- 
ished for his pride by being deprived of all his power, wealth, and 
friends. See how powerful the contrast he makes as he, who should 
be master, rides in mock state amid the splendor of his courtiers. 
The word "he" in the first line does not refer to the king, but to 
another. 

Then he departed with them o'er the sea, 

Into the lovely land of Italy, 

Whose loveliness was more resplendent made 



CONTRASTS 211 

By the mere passing of that cavalcade, 
With plumes, and cloaks, and housings, and the stir 
Of jeweled bridle and of golden spur. 
And lo ! among the menials, in mock state, 
Upon a piebald steed, with shambling gait, 
His cloak of foxtails flapping in the wind. 
The solemn ape demurely perched behind, 
King Robert rode, making huge merriment 
In all the country towns through which they went. 
— King Robert of Sicily. Longfellow. 

Let lis remember that contrasts are of two kinds : logical 
and emotional. The former are largely antitheses, such as 
*'I said John, not Charles," and will need but casual atten- 
tion. The pupils will perceive them without difficulty. The 
other class need much cai'e. Perhaps the most im23ortant fact 
that the teacher must bear in mind concerning these, is that 
their successful rendition depends upon the pupils' keeping 
both parts of the contrasts in mind, the first serving as a 
'background^ or reliefs for the second. Just as contrasts in 
literature afford variety and relief, so the reading aloud of 
contrasts gives great variety in vocal expression. 



CHAPTEE XIV 



CLIMAXES 



In Genung's Practical Rhetoric we find the following 
definition of Climax: **This figure, which depends upon the 
law that a thought must have progress^ is the ordering of 
thought and expression so that there shall be uniform and evi- 
dent increase in significance, or interest, or intensity." 

An excellent illustration of increase in Significance is 
found in the following speech from Kegulus : 

The artisan had forsaken his shop, the judge his tribunal, the 
priest the sanctuary, and even the stern stoic had conie forth from 
his retirement. 

Here the author deshes to show that the return of Eegulus 
had thrown all Carthage into a state of intense excitement. 
The artisan, who could ill afford to lose his day's labor, had 
left his shop to join the throng that was taking its way to the 
great square of the city. The judge, whose duty it was to 
administer justice, could not refrain from joining the crowd. 
The priest, whose sacred office was to tend the altars of the 
gods, he too, for once, was neglecting his duty. And even 
the stern stoic, whose philosophy taught him to remain 
unmoved under any and all conditions of life, even he, per- 
force, must mix with the multitude thronging the Car- 
thaginian streets. Each succeeding clause presents to us a 
more unusual disturbance of the normal condition of 
Carthaginian affairs ; and the climax is reached when even the 
man whose whole philosophy teaches him never to be moved, 
is impelled to do violence to his life-long convictions. 

S12 



CLIMAXES 213 

In the following lines from Lord Chatliam's speech, we 
have an illustration of the climax of Intensity : 

If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a foreign 
troop was landed in my country, I never would lay down my arms ! 
Never ! Never ! Never ! 

The verbal expression does not progress ; and yet the emotion 
increasing in force, as the mind dwells upon the thought, 
finds vent in increasing intensity of vocal expression. It may 
be well to note that by increasing the intensity is not neces- 
sarily meant greater loudness or higher pitch; but greater 
intensity of feeling, which may result in greater loudness or 
higher pitch, or, on the other hand, in deeper, more con- 
trolled, or more dignified expression. 

We have thus far been considering simple and palpable 
forms of climaxes. Let us turn now to the examination of 
the more difficult and complex. The following speech is 
uttered by Marullus, one of the tribunes, in the first scene of 
the fii'st act of Julius Caesar. We recall the fact that Marul- 
lus appears to be greatly surprised that the citizens of Rome 
should dress themselves in holiday garb and make holiday to 
celebrate the return of the victorious Caesar. He inquires of 
them w^hat is their purpose in thus celebrating; and, after 
considerable bantering, one of the crowd remarks that they 
make holiday to see Caesar, and to rejoice in his triumph, 
whereupon Marullus speaks : 

Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home? 

What tributaries follow him to Rome, 

To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels? 

You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things ! 

O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, 

Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft 

Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements. 

To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, 



214 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Your infants in your arms, and there have sat 
The livelong day, with patient expectation. 
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome ; 
And when you saw his chariot but appear, 
Have you not made an universal shout. 
That Tiber trembled underneath her banks, 
To hear the replication of your sounds 
Made in her concave shores? 
And do you now put on your best attire? 
And do you now cull out a holiday? 
And do you now strew flowers in his way. 
That comes in triumph over Pompey 's blood? 
Be gone! 

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, 
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague 
That needs must light on this ingratitude. 

The first three ideas are arranged in order of climax. It may 
be termed a climax of Significance. But we must not lose 
sight of the fact that, throughout the speech, as the emotion 
of Marullus increases, we shall have a climax in Intensity. 
In line 4, we have another climax, reaching its height on the 
word "worse." Then, with "many a time and oft," begins 
another climax, which, with occasional diminutions, continues 
to "shores." In the next fom- lines we have a climax which 
is intensified by contrast. The word "now" is full of reproof 
and condemnation; and by the time the speaker utters the 
words "over Pompey 's blood" he is so overcome with the 
enormity of the crime that, with the utmost fervor, he urges 
the mob to run to their houses and pray to the gods to refi^ain 
from visiting upon their heads the rightful punishment of 
their ingratitude. 

This cursory^ analysis of the speech has shown us that while 
there is a steady increase in intensity from the first word to 
the last, there are, besides, many smaller climaxes in Signifi- 
cance. A¥e find these in lines 1 to 3, line 4, lines 6 to 16, 



CLIMAXES 215 

lines 17 to 20, lines 22 to 24. It may be said in passing, that 
the climax in lines 17 to 20 forms a very interesting study. 
"Best attire," "holiday," "strew flowers in his way," are 
plainly arranged in order of climax, while the three "now's" 
are evidently an anti-climax. The first "now" is most sig- 
nificant, while the last is of very little importance. On the 
other hand, the fact of strewing flowers in Caesar s way is 
clearly a very much more striking mark of their ingratitude 
than that of merely putting on their best attire. 

Just as in the long paragraph that we have analyzed we* 
find a climax, so in a drama or in a poem we find this steady 
progression. That scene which is the climax of the action is 
gTadually led up to by successive steps, each one more signifi- 
cant and intense than the preceding. The artist is careful not 
to destroy his effect by anti-climax, for to do so would be to 
lessen the interest of the audience, and consequently defeat 
the very purpose of the di-ama or story. The play of Tlte 
Merchant of Venice illustrates this. Each scene manifestly 
increases the intensity which finally culminates in the trial 
scene, after which the play, being a comedj'', descends to a 
restful close at the end of the fifth act. 

In recitation the ordinary climax of Significance presents 
no great difiiculty for the reader. As soon as he appreciates 
the fact of the growth in significance, he will manifest that 
increase in gTeater loudness or intensity, or increase of passion. 
It may be well to repeat that the increase need not be in loud- 
ness, nor is it necessary that the pitch of the voice be raised; 
but there will unquestionably be some form of climax in 
the expression. The difficulty begins when the climax is 
made up of smaller climaxes, as in the example from Julius 
Caescir^ or when a climax is, so to speak, one of considerable 
length. In the latter case, the utmost cai^e must be used to 
husband one's resources, that when the moment of intensest 



^16 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

feeling is reached, there shall be sufficient power to produce 
the required result. One of the most striking defects in 
oratory, recitation, and acting, is the inability to present 
climaxes artistically. Either from a failure to perceive their 
literary value, or from lack of control, or other limitations of 
technique, the effect is often spoiled, with most disastrous 
results. The student, then, is advised to determine carefully 
that point of a passage or story where the strongest effect is to 
be made, and then to be careful to subordinate all else to this. 

GEADATIOK 

This feature of literary art may appropriately be considered 
in connection with Climax. The law of gradation demands 
that the progress from the smaller to the greater be gradual 
and regular. In the musical and elocutionary arts this is by 
no means an easy task, and great care must be taken to reserve 
the strongest effects for the culmination of the climax. This 
is not difficult when the climax is short, but in the longer 
examples one requires all the art at his command. 

To assist in rendering a climax artistically, let the reader 
bear in mind the end from the beginning. Then the tempta- 
tion to overdo the less important details will be reduced. 

Antony. O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, 
That I am meek and gentle with these butchers ! 
Thou art the ruins of the noblest man 
That ever liv^d in the tide of times. 
Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood! 
Over thy wounds now do I prophesy, — 
Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips 
To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue, — 
A curse shall light upon the limbs of men ; 
Domestic fury and fierce civil strife, 
Shall cumber all the parts of Italy ; 
Blood and destruction shall be so in use, 



CLIMAXES 217 

And dreadful objects so familiar, 
That mothers shall but sm.ile when they behold 
Their infants quartered with the hands of war, 
All pity choked with custom of fell deeds ; 
And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge. 
With Ate by his side, come hot from hell. 
Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice 
Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war; 
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth 
With carrion men groaning for burial. 

— Julius Caesar, Act iii., Sc. 1. 

Cassius, I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, 
As well as I do know your outward favor. 
Well, honor is the subject of my story. — 
I cannot tell what you and other men 
Think of this life ; but for my single self, 
I had as lief not be, as live to be 
In awe of such a thing as I myself. 
I was born free as Caesar ; so were you : 
We both have fed as well, and we can both 
Endure the winter's cold as well as he : 
For once, upon a raw and gusty day, 
The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, 
Caesar said to me, "Darest thou, Cassius, now 
Leaj) in with me into this angry flood. 
And swim to yonder point?" — Upon the word, 
Accoutred as I was, I plunged in, 
And bade him follow : so, indeed, he did. 
The torrent roared, and we did buffet it 
With lusty sinews, throwing it aside 
And stemming it with hearts of controversy ; 
But ere we could arrive the point proposed, 
Caesar cried, "Help me, Cassius, or I sink." 
I, as -lEneas, our great ancestor, 
Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder 
The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber 
Did I the tirfed Caesar. And this man 
Is now become a god ; and Cassius is 
A wretched creature, and must bend his body 



218 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

If Caesar carelessly but nod on him. 

He had a fever when he was in Spain, 

And when the fit was on him, I did mark 

How he did shake: 'tis true, this god did shake: 

His coward lips did from their color fly ; 

And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world, 

Did lose his luster, I did hear him groan ; 

Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans 

Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, 

Alas it cried, "Give me some drink, Titinius," 

As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me, 

A man of such a feeble temper should 

So get the start of the majestic world, 

And bear the palm alone. [S7iout. Flourish. 

Brutus. Another general shout ! 

I do believe that these applauses are 
For some new honors that are heaped on Caesar. 

Cassius. Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow 
world, 
Like a Colossus ; and we petty men 
Walk under his huge legs, and peep about 
To find ourselves dishonorable graves. 
Men at some time are masters of their fates : 
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars. 
But in ourselves, that we are underlings. 
Brutus, and Caesar : what should be in that Caesar? 
Why should that name be sounded more than yours? 
Write them together, yours is as fair a name ; 
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well ; 
Weigh them, it is as heavy ; — conjure with 'em, 
Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Caesar. 
Now, in the names of all the gods at once, 
Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed, 
That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed ! 
Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods! 
When went there by an age, since the great flood, 
But it was famed with more than with one man? 
When could they say, till now, that talked of Rome, 
That her wide walls encompassed but one man? 



CLIMAXES 219 

Now is it Rome indeed, and room enough, 

When there is in it but one only man. 

O, you and I have heard our fathers say, 

There was a Brutus once that would have brooked 

The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome 

As easily as a king. 

— Julius Caesar, Act i., Sc. 2. 

In the preceding illustration it must be remembered that the 
description of the rescue of Caesar from the Tiber is only the 
beginning of Cassius' plan; and that his object is to cite 
the illustrations of Caesar's weakness, and finally to lead up to 
that subtle flattery with which the "Instigation" speech closes. 

It is an outrage to bind a Roman citizen ; to scourge him is an 
atrocious crime; to put him to death is almost parricide; but to 
crucify him — what shall I call it? 

I know it, I concede it, I confess it, I proclaim it. 

When a wind from the lands they had ruin'd awoke from sleep, 
And the water began to heave and the weather to moan. 

If there be one among you who can say that ever, in public fight 
or private brawl, my actions did belie my tongue, let him stand 
forth and say it. If there be three in all your company dare face 
me on the bloody sands, let them come on. 

O comrades, warriors, Thracians, — if we must fight, let us fight 
for ourselves! If we must slaughter, let us slaughter our oppressors/ , 
If we must die, let it be under the clear sky, by the bright water, 
in noble, honorable battle ! 

Next morning, waking with the day's first beam, 
He said within himself, "It was a dream!" 
But the straw rustled as he turned his head, 
There were the cap and bells beside his bed ; 
Around him rose the bare, discolored walls. 
Close by, the steeds were champing in their stalls, 



220 BEADING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

And in the corner, a revolting shape, 
Shivering and chattering, sat the wretched ape. 
It was no dream ; the world he loved so much 
Had turned to dust and ashes at his touch ! 

Have I not, since first my youthful arms could wield a spear, 
conquered your armies, fired your towns, and dragged your generals 
at my chariot wheels? 

Eemember that G-reece had her Alexander, Rome her Caesar, 
England her Cromwell, France her Bonaparte, and that, if we would 
escape on the rock on which they split, we must avoid their errors. 

"But, Mr. Speaker, we have a right to tax America." Oh, 
inestimable right! Oh, wonderful, transcendent right! the asser- 
tion of which has cost this country thirteen provinces, six islands, 
one hundred thousand lives, and seventy millions of money. 

This last example is a peculiar one. Under ordinary circum- 
stances thirteen provinces would be more valuable than six 
islands, and surely one hundred thousand lives are more valu- 
able than seventy millions of money. On the other hand, the 
figures in the last three phrases certainly rise to a climax. 
On the whole, I think it better to regard this as an pratorical 
climax, understanding Burke not to have had in mind any- 
thing more than to present the losses of England, as each 
occurred to him, while his emotion and indignation rise with 
each enumeration. 

The climax is a very important feature in reading. It 
stimulates the imagination and feelings, and, through them, 
the voice. It should be remembered that no definite method 
of expressing a climax vocally can be laid down. In one case 
the pitch may rise; in another it may fall. Sometimes the 
force increases; at other times it diminishes. Hence, the 
admonition so often given must be repeated : Do not tell 



CLBIAXES 221 

the pupil to raise his voice, or to speak louder. Work at his 
imagination. If there be a climax there, it will come out in 
his expression. 

Frequent drills in climax will do much to give flexibility, 
power, and range to the voice. And that, too, in a far more 
rational way than through any mechanical exercises in pitch 
and force. 

The following plan of presenting climaxes to classes has 
been found extremely helpful : 

Read the following sentence carefully to yourself. Notice each 
clause, and try to discover if there is not something here that we 
have not had before. I want to ask you not to read more than that 
sentence until you have studied over it for some time. "It is an 
outrage to bind a Eoman citizen ; to scourge him is an atrocious 
crime ; to put him to death is almost parricide ; but to crucify him 
—what shall I call it?" 

We have here another method used by writers and speakers for 
making an idea more striking. In this case, the speaker is con- 
demning one who has caused the crucifixion of a Roman. The 
orator desires to impress upon the judges the seriousness of the 
offense. How does he do it? Instead of speaking at once about the 
crucifying of the victim, he begins by showing that a far less serious 
punishment was a grave offense against the Roman law. He says, 
"It is an outrage to bind a Roman citizen." Then he goes another 
step, saying: "To scourge him is an atrocious crime." Worse still: 
"To put him to death" (by any means) "is almost parricide." And 
now, having shown that less extreme methods of punishment were 
great crimes, the orator is ready for his final statement: "But to 
crucify him — what shall I call it?" In other words, the speaker 
seems to have exhausted his vocabulary in giving names to lower 
crimes ; when he comes to a name with which to describe the crime 
of crucifying a Roman, he finds his vocabulary does not have one 
strong enough. Do you not see how powerful an effect such an 
arrangement of clauses must have? It is much stronger than if the 
speaker had said merely, "I know no word to describe the crime of 
crucifying a Roman citizen." 

Analyze the following sentence, and explain how the thought is 



222 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

made more striking by this kind of arrangement. "I know it, I 
concede it, I confess it, I proclaim it." 

This method of increasing the effect is called climax. When- 
ever, for any reason, a speaker or writer keeps on adding thought 
to thought, making each succeeding idea stronger than the preced- 
ing, we have a climax. Although you may never have called it by 
this name you have used it many times. If you were determined to 
do a certain thing you might say, "I can do it, I will do it, I must 
do it. " Well, that is a climax. Or you might say, "You can't have 
it for ten dollars, for fifty dollars, for a hundred dollars." That is 
another climax. 

Note this example: "If I were an American, as I am an English- 
man, while a foreign troop was landed in my country, I never 
would lay down my arms! never! never! never!" This, too, is a 
climax, each of the last three "never's" being stronger than the 
preceding. If you will put yourself in the position of the speaker, 
you will soon feel that each "never" after the first is the result of 
stronger, more intense feeling. If you will think of it in this way 
you will notice the effect in your expression. 

We shall close this lesson with two illustrations. Your teacher 
will tell you the story from which these extracts are taken, and then 
you will prepare them very carefully, taking particular pains to 
note the climax in each. 

When a wind from the lands they had ruin'd awoke from sleep. 

And the water began to heave and the weather to moan, 

And or ever that evening ended a great gale blew. 

And a wave like a wave that is raised by an earthquake grew. 

Till it smote on their hulls and their sails and their masts and their 

flags. 
And the whole sea plunged and fell on the shot- shatter 'd navy of 

Spain, 
And the little Revenge herself went down by the island crags, 
To be lost evermore in the main. 

— The Revenge. Tennyson. 

And thro' the centuries let a people's voice 
In full acclaim, 
A people's voice, 



CLIMAXES 223 

The proof and echo of all human fame, 
A people's voice, when they rejoice 
At civic revel and pomp and game, 
Attest their great commander's claim 
With honor, honor, honor, honor to him, 
Eternal honor to his name. 
-Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington. Tennyson. 



CHAPTEK XV 

CONCLUDING EEMARKS ON METHOD 

In taking leave of the pedagogy of the subject it may be 
profitable to review some of the principal features of the 
method advocated, and add a few hints on minor topics not 
treated elsewhere. 

The method herein laid down aims to present one prin- 
ciple at a time ; calls for specific preparation on the part of the 
pupils ; urges that there be definite grading of the difficulties 
encountered by children in learning to read ; advises strongly 
against calling their attention to the vocal technique of 
expression ; and lastly, holds out the hope that the impression 
will eventually find an outlet in true expression. 

As at present taught, no distinction is drawn, in reading, 
between the easy and the difficult, the simple and the complex. 
We trust that in the suggestions of this book will be found at 
any rate a partial solution of the difficulty. 

It should be impressed upon pupils from the outset 
that they are studying the thoughts and feelings of others 
that find expression in words upon the printed page. They 
must discover the thoughts behind the words and then 
express them ; that is all there is to reading. 

While it is believed that the order of the steps as here out- 
lined is a rational one, it is not claimed that this order is hard 
and fixed. In advanced classes, where the method has not 
been used in the lower grades, the teacher should endeavor to 
discover the particular weakness of his pupils, and use with 
them the step most likely to produce the desired effect. Or 
if it is thought advisable, he may start with the first step and 

224 



CONCLUDING REMARKS ON METHOD 225 

cover all the ground in one grade as fast as the pupils can 
absorb the spirit of each step. But it must never be forgotten 
that carelessness in reading is a habit not easily eradicated; 
and, further, that because a pupil satisfactorily prepares a 
lesson in, let us say, grouping, he will not necessarily have 
formed the habit of grouping correctly. We are dealing with 
complicated psychical phenomena, and until the eye, the 
memory, the voice, in fact, all the elements of expression are 
thoroughly co-ordinated, we are in constant danger of error. 

The time deemed necessary in public schools to complete 
all the steps, is about two years, beginning with the grade 
third or fourth below the highest. Before the pupils reach 
that grade, the sole effort of the teacher should be directed to 
making the reading vital and meaningful. If this is done the 
work of subsequent teachers will be relatively easy. 

Avoid, and the admonition is repeated once more, talking 
to the pupils about inflection, pause, and the like. These 
are instinctive manifestations of mental states, and will 
appear when the conditions are right. 

Let the teacher not follow slavishly the order of lessons in 
the regular reading book. Let him choose such selections or 
parts of them as offer the best opportunity for practice where 
the class most needs it. Let him further find extracts from 
outside sources for class use. These may be written on the 
board or mimeogTaphed. 

It has been said that we must have a technique if we would 
read. This may be granted; but it is equally to be granted 
that the principal technique is mental, and, moreover, that, 
in the public schools, our aim is to produce simple, natural, 
expressive readers, not artistic actors and orators. There is, 
then, no necessity for drills on inflection, time, modulation, 
and the like, as such. Give the pupil all the drill that is 
necessary on the states of mind producing these effects, but let 



226 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

us never separate the technique from the mental condition 
that will find instinctive expression in that technique.* 
Expression grows through expressing. If we will bear this in 
mind, and present the right thoughts and emotions to be 
expressed, at the right time, there should and will be no 
difficulty. 

It is suggested that, perhaps once a week, short extracts be 
committed and recited before the class. There need be no 
gesture, just simple saying. Such a procedure will give the 
pupil confidence, develop his earnestness, improve his voice, 
and in every way affect for good the reading spirit of the 
class. Where a suitable selection can be found, it will be well 
to give a stanza to each pupil. A word may be added about 
the recitations that form so large a part of the closing exercises 
in our schools. If the recitation were an honest, legitimate 
presentation of the reading as taught in the school, there 
could be no objection to it; but in most cases it is anything 
but this . Special teachers are called in to " coach ' ' the students , 
and the result is far from satisfactory. A few lessons can sel- 
dom make a reader, and where that plan partially succeeds, so 
much greater is the hypocrisy ; for the reading stands for the 
work of the school rather than for that of an individual 
teacher. A true showing of the work of the school, and one 
that would in time be heartily appreciated by parents, would be 
to select the good readers (a few hints to them are all 



* A great deal of what seems to be unnecessary confusion exists 
regarding the meaning of this term. It is used very freely to mean not 
only mechanical facility, but also that facility plus the knowledge of 
where and how to use it, a meaning which leads to confusion. Tech- 
nique is " a collective term for all that relates to the purely mechanical 
part of either vocal or instrumental performance. The technique of a 
performer may be perfect, and yet his playing . . . fail to interpret 
intelligibly the ideas of the composer." These words from the Cmtury 
Dictionary ought to settle this misunderstanding effectually. 



CONCLUDING REMARKS ON METHOD 227 

that would be necessary), and let them, book in hand, read as 
they would in class. If the class reading has been good, so 
will be the individual reading; otherwise it has no business 
to parade under false colors at public exercises. 

To what extent shall pupils imitate? No fixed rule should 
be laid down, but one might say that they should never 
attempt to imitate inflections, pauses, rate of movement, and 
the like. On the contrai'y, there seems to be much value in 
stimulating the pupils' imagination by having the teacher 
read certain emotional passages for them. They then may 
catch the spirit of the selection without any conscious effort 
at imitation. There are many who train a class to read in 
concert from imitation. The results of such training are 
worse than baneful, leading only to inane, affected expres- 
sion. 



PART THREE 



LITERARY INTERPRETATION 



CHAPTEE XYI 

LITEKAET IKTEKPKETATIO]!^" 

In the concluding part of this work it is purposed to lay 
before the teacher some examples of literary interpretation. 
The object of these is to assist him to a deeper insight into 
literature, and hence to become a better reader and teacher 
of reading. 

It is not too much to say that we accept as good reading 
what is often the reverse simply because the subject matter 
does not appeal to us or is only partly appreciated. A pupil 
may read such a passage as the following in a commonplace 
way, and be complimented by one teacher for his distinct 
articulation and forceful utterance, whereas a teacher who 
appreciated the true spirit of the lines would severely con- 
demn the reading. 

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day ; 

The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea; 
The plowman homeward plods his weary way, 

And leaves the world to darkness and to me. 

The explanation of the difference in the attitudes of the 
teachers is that the former has no appreciation of the spirit 
of the lines, while the latter keenly feels their tenderness, their 
beauty, and then* pensive solemnity. 

The best way to learn to love good literature is to study 
only good literature, and to study it again, again and again. 
What is truly great art cannot be apprehended at a glance, 
but requires time for its fullest appreciation. We believe, 
however, that it is good pedagogy, in a work of this kind, to 

S31 



232 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

lay before the teacher certain examples of what careful 
analysis may reveal. The effect of such analysis upon the 
reading must be evident to all. 

"We have already discerned that all analysis preparatory to 
reading aloud is virtually literary analysis. This is well 
illustrated in the chapters on Climax and on Contrast. It 
remains, therefore, to deal only with certain broader aspects 
of literary appreciation, in connection with which we shall 
endeavor to show the application of the principles discussed 
in Parts I and II to vocal interpretation. 

STUDY IK EHTTHM 

It is a truism to state that every poem should be a unity, 
but we often forget a most important corollary, that every 
line should be scanned with a view to determine that unity. 
It is only in so far as we understand the parts that we under- 
stand the whole. Let us illustrate this principle in the fol- 
lowing well-known poem: 

HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM GHENT 

TO AIX 

ROBERT BROWNING 

I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he; 

I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three: 

"Good speed!" cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew; 

*' Speed!" echoed the wall to us galloping through; 

Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, 

And into the midnight we galloped abreast. 

Not a word to each other ; we kept the great pace 
Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place; 
I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight, 
Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique right, 
Rebuckled the check-strap, chained slacker the bit. 
Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit. 



STUDY IN RHYTHM 233 

'Twas moonset at starting ; but while we drew near 

Lokeren, the cocks crew and twilight dawned clear. 

At Boom, a great yellow star came out to see ; 

At Duffeld, 'twas moaning as plain as could be ; 

And from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the half chime, 

So Joris broke silence with, "Yet there is time!" 

At Aerschot, up leaped of a sudden the sun. 
And against him the cattle stood black every one, 
To stare through the mist at us galloping past, 
And I saw my stout galloper Roland at last. 
With resolute shoulders, each butting away 
The haze, as some bluff river headland its spray. 

And his long head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back 
For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track ; 
And one eye's black intelligence, — ever that glance 
O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askance I 
And the thick heavy spume -flakes which aye and anon. 
His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on. 

By Hasselt, Dirck groaned; and cried Joris, "Stay spurl 
Your Roos galloped bravely, the fault's not in her; 
We'll remember at Aix," — for one heard the quick wheeze 
Of her chest, saw the stretched neck and staggering knees, 
And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank, 
As down on her haunches she shuddered and sank. 

So we were left galloping, Joris and I, 

Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky ; 

The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh, 

'Neath our feet broke the bright brittle stubble like chaff; 

Till over by Dalhem a dome -spire sprang w^hite. 

And "Gallop," gasped Joris, "for Aix is in sight!" 

"How they'll greet usl" — and all in a moment his roan 
Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone ; 
And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight 
Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate, 
With Tiis nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim. 
And with circles of red for his eye-sockets' rim. 



234 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Then I cast loose my buff coat, each holster let fall, 

Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all. 

Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear, 

Called my Roland his pet-name, my horse without peer; 

Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise, bad or good, 

Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood. 

And all I remember is, friends flocking round 

As I sat with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground. 

And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine. 

As I poured down his throat our last measure of wine, 

Which (the burgesses voted by common consent) 

Was no more than his due who brought good news from Ghent. 

The central idea in this poem is Roland ; not the rider, not 
the historical element. As a matter of fact, the poem has no 
historical basis. Browning tells us somewhere that after a 
tiresome and tedious sea voyage lie longed for a gallop over 
the English downs, and that this poem is a result of that 
longing. The rhythm of the poem is peculiarly adapted to 
express the bounding joy of the poet, and is in striking con- 
trast to the long, monotonous roll of ocean waves. 

On studying the poem, we note the absence of any but 
cursory reference to the rider, and, on the contrary, the 
constant reference to the real hero, Roland. One might 
imagine a setting for the lines something as follows : Around 
a camp-fire are gathered many veterans of the wars. They 
are telling of the gallant deeds of their war steeds, when one 
of their number starts up and says : 

''You talk of your horses; have you ever heard of mine? 
Have you heard how my Roland helped to save Aix? No? 
Let me tell you. You remember so-and-so's famous cam- 
paign, and how the enemy were preparing to take Aix. 
You know, too, that the officer in command had no hope of 
saving the city and was preparing to capitulate the moment 
the enemy began the attack. Well, one night, just after we 



STUDY IN RHYTHM 235 

had turned in, a messenger came in hot haste to tell us 
that the king himself had that day started to relieve the city 
and that we must carry the good news to Aix and thus 
encourage them to hold out until his arrival. Our com- 
mander called for three volunteers to undertake the danger- 
ous task of hearing the news. We — Joris, Dirck, and I — ■ 
offered our services. They were accepted, and a moment 
after we had received our instructions, 

'I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he;' " 

From now on observe how the poet fixes our attention on 
Eoland. 

Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit. 

And I saw my stout galloper Roland at last, 
With resolute shoulders, each butting away 
The haze, as some bluff river headland its spray. 

And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight 
Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate, 

Till at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood. 

And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine. 

The whole of the fifth stanza is devoted to praise of 
Roland; while the failure of the horses of Joris and Dirck 
serves but to enhance the glory of Roland's feat. 

As soon as we perceive the meaning of the poem — its central 
thought — the entire reading becomes permeated with the joy 
and exultation of the rider in his steed. The poem is well 
adapted to develop vocal flexibility, and freedom of expression, 

Tennyson's Charge of the Light Brigade affords another 
opportunity for analysis. 

The atmosphere of this poem is that of a dirge. This does 
not mean that we snivel and whine while rendering it, but that 
the whole poem is enveloped in the atmosphere of dignified 



236 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

solemnity. It is true that this is not the popular view, which 
seems to be that Tennyson wrote the poem to afford the reader 
an opportunity of making descriptive gestures. Tennyson's 
heart ached for those brave fellows in their useless sacrifice ; and 
he wrote the poem, not primarily to show how they fought, but 
that they fought in vain. True, there is a vein of stirring 
patriotism in the lines, but all that is inferior in importance to 
the dignified solemnity and controlled pathos of the speaker. 

THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE 

TENNYSON 

Half a league, half a league, 

Half a league onward, 
All in the valley of Death 

Rode the six hundred. 
"Forward, the Light Brigade! 

Charge for the gunsl" he said: 
Into the valley of Death 

Rode the six hundred. 

"Forward, the Light Brigade!'* 
Was there a man dismayed? 
Not tho' the soldier knew 

Some one had blunder'd: 
Theirs not to make reply, 
Theirs not to reason why. 
Theirs but to do and die : 
Into the valley of Death 

Rode the six hundred. 

Cannon to right of them, 
Cannon to left of them. 
Cannon in front of them 

Volley'd and thunder'd; 
Storm'd at with shot and shell 
Boldly they rode and well, 
Into the jaws of Death, 
Into the mouth of Hell 

Rode the six hundred. 



STUDY IN RHYTHM 237 

Flash' d all their sabres bare, 
Flash'd as they turn'd in air 
Sabring the gunners there. 
Charging an army, while 

All the world wonder'd; 
Plunged in the battery-smoke 
Right thro' the line they broke ; 
Cossack and Russian 
Reel'd from the sabre-stroke 

Shatter' d and sunder' d. 
Then they rode back, but not — 

Not the six hundred. 

Cannon to right of them, 
Cannon to left of them, 
Cannon behind them 

Volley'd and thunder'd;' 
Storm' d at with shot and shell, 
While horse and hero fell, 
They that had fought so well 
Came thro' the jaws of Death, 
Back from the mouth of Hell, 
All that was left of them. 

Left of six hundred. 

When can their glory fade? 
O the wild charge they made! 

All the world wonder'd. 
Honor the charge they made ! 
Honor the Light Brigade, 

Noble Six Hundred I 

It is impossible to overlook the constant recurrence of the 
phrases "valley of Death;" **]aws of Death;" *'mouth of 
Hell," and their significance. The keynote of the poem is 
found in the line, 

Some one had blunder'd: 



238 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Here is the central thouglit. The men made a gallant 
charge, went boldly and willingly to their doom; but it was 
all a mistake, a fearful, horrible mistake. We care not for 
the fact that cannons were to the right, to the left, and to 
the front of them. The mere position is nothing. But who 
can repress the shudder of despair as he contemplates that 
heroic band surrounded by fires from death-dealing cannon? 

On pages 200 and 201 will be found three poems from 
Tennyson, each of which presents a different aspect. The 
first is marked by an exquisite simplicity. It contains but 
one simple idea, which is set forth in the simplest language. 
Consequently, the reading should be equally unassuming. 
The least appearance of affectation or effort will dissipate the 
atmosphere. 

The second is a lullaby. The rocking cradle is felt in 
every line, while in the last line of each stanza we have the 
rhythmic picture of the gradual cessation of the rocking, and 
it seems impossible to omit the long pause before the last 
word in each of these lines, a pause exactly equal to the time 
of one of the preceding feet. 

The third poem is of an entirely different nature. Here 
we have the strength of spirit that animated King Arthur's 
Knights of the Eound Table. When we bear in mind that 
this song is sung after King Arthur's claim to the throne, 
which has long been in doubt, has been firmly established, 
and he has taken Guinevere to wife, we can better under- 
stand its passionate joy. 

One of the most interesting features in connection with 
the study of literature is rhythm. The meaning of rhythm is 
not always clearly apprehended, many regarding it simply as 
poets' playfulness, interesting in the nursery rhyme, tickling 
the childish ear, but beyond that a useless and even senseless 
filigree. Nothing could be farther from truth, Khythm is 



STUDY IN RHYTHM 239 

not a conventional appendage of poetry, but its very heart, 
life, spirit. It springs spontaneously from the poet's heart, 
and is the manifestation of his deepest feeling. "Who can fail 
to catch the bounding spnit of life and joy in the following : 

I come, I come ! ye have called me long ; 
I come o'er the mountains with light and song; 
Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth, 
By the winds which tell of the violet's birth, 
By the primrose stars in the shadowy grass, 
By the green leaves opening as I pass. 

— Spring. Hemans. 

Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee 

Jest, and joyful Jollity, 

Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles, 

Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles. 

Such as hang on Hebe's cheek. 

And love to live in dimple sleek ; 

Sport that wrinkled Care derides. 

And Laughter holding both his sides. 

Come and trip it as you go 

On the light fantastic toe ; 

And in thy right hand lead with thee 

The mountain-nymph, sweet Liberty : 

And, if I give thee honor due, 

Mirth, admit me to thy crew, 

To live with her, and live with thee. 

In unreproved pleasures free : 

—U Allegro. Milton. 

What a dignity is imparted to the scene by the rhythm in 
the following extracts : 

Here are old trees, tall oaks and gnarled pines, 
That stream with gray-green mosses ; here the ground 
Was never trenched by spade, and flowers spring up 
Unsown, and die ungathered. It is sweet 
To linger here, among the flitting birds 



240 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

And leaping squirrels, wandering brooks, and winds 

That shake the leaves, and scatter as they pass, 

A fragrance from the cedars, thickly set 

With pale blue berries. In these peaceful shades — 

Peaceful, unpruned, immeasurably old — 

My thoughts go up the long dim path of years, 

Back to the earliest days of liberty. 

—Freedom. Bryant. 

A land of streams ! some, like a downward smoke. 

Slow-dropping veils of thinnest lawn, did go ; 

And some through wavering lights and shadows broke 

Rolling a slumbrous sheet of foam below. 

They saw the gleaming river seaward flow 

From the inner land : far off, three mountain-tops. 

Three silent pinnacles of aged snow. 

Stood sunset-flushed : and, dewed with showery drops, 

Up-clomb the shadowy pine above the woven copse. 

— The Lotos-Eaters. Tennyson. 

Often in the same poem the emotional changes are mani- 
fested in changes of rhythm. Observe this in the following 
lines : 

Look ! look ! that livid flash ! 
And instantly follows the rattling thunder 
As if some cloud-crag, split asunder. 

Fell, splintering with a ruinous crash, 
On the earth, which crouches in silence under ; 
And now a solid gray wall of rain 
Shuts off the landscape, mile by mile ; 

For a breath's space I see the blue wood again, 
And, ere the next heart-beat, the wind-hurled pile, 
That seemed but now a league aloof, 
Bursts rattling over the sun-parched roof; 
Against the windows the storm comes dashing, 
Through tattered foliage the hail tears crashing, 
The blue lightning flashes, 
The rapid hail clashes. 
The white waves are tumbling, 



STUDY IN RHYTHM 241 

And in one baffled roar, 
Like the toothless sea mumbling 

A rock-bristling shore, 
The thunder is rumbling 
And crashing and crumbling, — 

Will silence return never more? 

— A Summer Shower. Lowell. 

Or in the concluding stanzas of Wordsworth's ode on Inti- 
matio7is of Immortality: 

Then sing, ye birds, sing, sing a joyous song ! 

And let the young lambs bound 

As to the tabor's sound ! 
We in thought will join your throng, 

Ye that pipe and ye that play. 

Ye that through your hearts to-day 

Feel the gladness of the May ! 
What though the radiance that was once so bright 
Be now forever taken from my sight. 

Though nothing can bring back the hour 
Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower, 

We will grieve not, rather find 

Strength in what remains behind, 

Li the primal sympathy 

Which having been, must ever be ; 

In the soothing thoughts that spring 

Out of human suffering ; 

In the faith that looks through death. 
In years that bring the philosophic mind. 

* And O ye fountains, meadows, hills and groves, 

Forebode not any severing of our loves! 
Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might ; 
I only have relinquished one delight, 
To live beneath your more habitual sway. 
I love the brooks which down their channels fret, 
Even more than when I tripped lightly as they : 
The innocent brightness of a new-born day 
Is lovely yet; 



242 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

The clouds that gather round the setting sun 
Do take a sober coloring from an eye 
That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality; 
Another race hath been, and other palms are won. 
Thanks to the human heart by which we live ; 
Thanks to its tenderness, its joys and fears. 
To me the meanest flower that blows can give 
i Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. 

In blank verse wo get the best and clearest illustration of 
the meaning of rhythm. Here tlie poei; has the utmost free- 
dom, untrammeled by rhyme or any limitations as to the 
length of his stanza. The rhythm in the description of the 
overthrow of Satan is most suggestive of strength and 
determination : 

Him the Almighty power 
Hurl'd headlong flaming from th' ethereal sky, 
With hideous ruin and combustion, down 
To bottomless perdition ; there to dwell 
In adamantine chains and penal fire, 
Who durst defy th' Omnipotent to arms I 

— Paradise Lost, Book I. Milton. 

How clearly the frantic passion of Lear is shown in the 
irregular, erratic, almost chaotic, rhythm of the following 
speech : 

Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks 1 rage! blow! 

You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout 

Till you have drench' d our steeples, drowned the cocks! 

You sulphurous and thought -executing fires. 

Vaunt couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts, 

Singe my white head ! And thou, all-shaking thunder, 

Smite flat the thick rotundity o' the world! 

Crack Nature's moulds, all germens spill at once. 

That make ingrateful man! 

— King Lear, Act iii., Sc. 3. 



STUDY IN RHYTHM 24:3 

Note how the varying rhytlim in the following passage 
corresponds with the ever varying moods of the King and 
the poet : 

To whom replied King Arthur, much in wrath: 
"Ah, miserable and imkind, untrue, 
Unknightly, traitor-hearted! Woe is me! 
Authority forgets a dying king, 
Laid widow' d of the power in his eye 
That bow'd the will. I see thee what thou art. 
For thou, the latest-left of all my knights. 
In whom should meet the offices of all. 
Thou wouldst betray me for the precious hilt; 
Either from lust of gold, or like a girl 
Valuing the giddy pleasure of the eyes. 
Yet, for a man may fail in duty twice. 
And the third time may prosper, get thee hence: 
But, if thou spare to fling Excalibur, 
I will arise and slay thee with my hands." 
Then quickly rose Sir Bedivere, and ran, 
And, leaping down the ridges lightly, plunged 
Among the bulrush-beds, and clutch'd the sword. 
And strongly wheel' d and threw it. The great brand 
Made lightnings in the splendor of the moon. 
And flashing round and round, and whirl' d in an arch, 
Shot like a streamer of the northern morn. 
Seen where the moving isles of winter shock 
By night, with noises of the northern sea,. 
So flash' d and fell the brand Excalibur: 
But ere he dipt the surface, rose an arm 
Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful. 
And caught him by the hilt, and brandish' d him 
Three times, and drew him under in the mere. 
And lightly went the other to the King. 

—Morte d' Arthur. Tennyson. 

In order to give a clear conception of the meaning 
and purpose of rhythm, the analysis of an entire poem is 
given. 



244 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

THE REVENGE 

A BALLAD OF THE FLEET 

TENNYSON 

I 

At Flores in the Azores Sir Richard Grenville lay, 
And a pinnace, like a flutter' d bird, came flying from far away: 
"Spanish ships of war at sea! we have sighted fifty-three!" 
Then sware Lord Thomas Howard: " 'Fore God I am no coward; 
But I cannot meet them here, for my ships are out of gear, 5 

And the half my men are sick. I must fly, but follow quick. 
We are six ships of the line; can we fight with fifty-three?" 

II 

Then spake Sir Richard Grenville: "I know you are no coward; 
You fly them for a moment to fight with them again. 
But I've ninety men and more that are lying sick ashore. 10 

I should count myself the coward if I left them, my Lord Howard, 
To these Inquisition dogs and the devildoms of Spain." 

Ill 

So Lord Howard past away with five ships of war that day. 

Till he melted like a cloud in the silent summer heaven; 

But Sir Richard bore in hand all his sick men from the land 15 

Very carefully and slow, 

Men of Bideford in Devon, 

And we laid them on the ballast down below; 

For we brought them all aboard. 

And they blest him in their pain, that they were not left to 

Spain, 20 

To the thumbscrew and the stake, for the glory of the Lord. 

IV 

He had only a hundred seamen to work the ship and to fight. 
And he sailed away from Flores till the Spaniard came in sight, 
With his huge sea -castles heaving upon the weather bow. 
*'Shall we fight or shall we fly? 25 



STUDY IN RHYTHM 245 

Grood Sir Richard, tell us now, 

For to fight is but to die I 

There'll be little of us left by the time this sun be set." 

And Sir Richard said again: "We be all good English men. 

Let us bang these dogs of Seville, the children of the devil, 30 

For I never tum'd my back upon Don or devil yet." 

V 

Sir Richard spoke and he laugh' d, and we roar'd a hurrah, and so 
The little Revenge ran on sheer into the heart of the foe, 
With her hundred fighters on deck, and her ninety sick below ; 
For half of their fleet to the right and half to the left were seen, 35 
And the little Revenge ran on thro' the long sea-lane between. 

VI 

Thousands of their soldiers look'd down from their decks and 

laugh' d, 
Thousands of their seamen made mock at the mad Kttle craft 
Running on and on, till delay 'd 

By their mountain-like San Philip that, of fifteen hundred tons, 40 
And up- shadowing high above us with her yawning tiers of guns. 
Took the breath from our sails, and we stay'd. 

VII 

And while now the great San Philip hung above us like a cloud 

Whence the thunderbolt will fall 

Long and loud, 45 

Four galleons drew away 

From the Spanish fleet that day, 

And two upon the larboard and two upon the starboard lay, 

And the battle -thunder broke from them all. 

VIII 

But anon the great San Philip, she bethought herself and went 50 
Having that within her womb that had left her ill content ; 
And the rest they came aboard us, and they fought us hand to hand, 
For a dozen times they came with their pikes and musqueteers, 
And a dozen times we shook 'em off as a dog that shakes his ears 
When he leaps from the water to the land. 55 



346 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

IX 

And the sun went down, and the stars came out far over the 

summer sea, 55 

But never a moment ceased the fight of the one and the fifty-three. 
Ship after ship, the whole night long, their high-built galleons 

came, 
Ship after ship, the whole night long, with her battle-thunder 

and flame ; 
Ship after ship, the whole night long, drew back with her dead 

and her shame. 
For some were sunk and many were shatter'd, and so could 

fight us no more — 60 

God of battles, was ever a battle like this in the world before? 



For he said ''Fight onl fight onl" 

Tho' his vessel was all but a wreck • 

And it chanced that, when half of the short summer night was 

gone, 
With a grisly wound to be drest he had left the deck, 65 

But a bullet struck him that was dressing it suddenly dead, 
And himself he was wounded again in the side and the head, 
And he said "Fight on! fight onl" 



XI 

And the night went down, and the sun smiled out far over the 

summer sea, 
And the Spanish fleet with broken sides lay round us all in a 

ring ; 70 

But they dared not touch us again, for they fear'd that we still 

could sting, 
So they watch' d what the end would be. 
And we had not fought them in vain, 
But in perilous plight were we, 

Seeing forty of our poor hundred were slain, 75 

And half of the rest of us maim'd for life 
In the crash of the cannonades and the desperate strife; 



STUDY IN RHYTHM 247 

And the sick men down in the hold were most of them stark 

and cold, 
And the pikes were all broken or bent and the powder was all 

of it spent ; 
And the masts and the rigging were lying over the side; 80 

But Sir Richard cried in his English pride, 
"We have fought such a fight for a day and a night 
As may never be fought again ! 
We have won great glory, my men 1 

And a day less or more 85 

At sea or ashore. 
We die — does it matter when? 

Sink me the ship, Master Gunner — ^sink her, split her in twain 1 
Fall into the hands of God, not into the hands of Spain !" 

XII 

And the gunner said "Ay, ay," but the seamen made reply: 90 

"We have children, we have wives, 

And the Lord hath spared our lives. 

We will make the Spaniard promise, if we yield to let us go ; 

We shall live to fight again and to strike another blow, ' ' 

And the lion there lay dying, and they yielded to the foe. 95 

XIII 

And the stately Spanish men to their flagship bore him then. 
Where they laid him by the mast, old Sir Richard caught at last, 
And they praised him to his face with their courtly foreign grace ; 
But he rose upon their decks, and he cried : 
"I have fought for Queen and Faith like a valiant man and 100 

true ; 
I have only done my duty as a man is bound to do : 
With a joyful spirit I Sir Richard Grenville die I" 
And he fell upon their decks, and he died. 

XIV 

And they stared at the dead that had been so valiant and true, 
And had holden the power and glory of Spain so cheap 105 

That he dared her with one little ship and his English few ; 
Was he devil or man? He was devil for aught they knew. 



248 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

But they sank his body with honor down into the deep, 

And they mann'd the Eevenge with a swarthier alien crew. 

And away she sail'd with her loss and long'd for her own; 110 

When a wind from the lands they had ruin'd awoke from sleep, 

And the water began to heave and the weather to moan, 

And or ever that evening ended a great gale blew, 

And a wave like the wave that is raised by an earthquake grew, 

Till it smote on their hulls and their sails and their masts and 

their flags, 115 

And the whole sea plunged and fell, on the shot-shatter' d navy 

of Spain, 
And the little Eevenge herself went down by the island crags 
To be lost evermore in the main. 

ISTOTES OK BHYTHM 

Stanza I 

1. 1-2. — Normal rhythm. 

1. 3. — Note the emphasis imparted to the call by the 
trochees. 

1. 4-6. — The effect of the internal rhymes Howard — coward^ 
here — gear^ sick — quich^ is very marked. Similar effects are 
frequently introduced in the poem. 

Stanza II 
1. 10. — The two emphatic syllables, Pve and nine-, coming 
in succession, add force to Sir Richard's statement. 

Stanza III 

1. 13. — Note how the author retards his movement and 
hence impresses us with the slow moving picture, by drawing 
his emphatic syllables together, as So Lord How-; five ships; 
and that day. This effect is one of the commonest in 
literature, and one of the most natural. This line will scan 
as a normal line ; but let us bear in mind that sense accent 
determines the rhythm in English, not quantity. 



STUDY IN RHYTHM 249 

L 16. — A strange deyice, the effect of wliicli is to cause 
Sir Eichard's gallantry to stand out most strikingly. In 
spite of the fact that fifty-three Spanish galleons were coming 
down upon him, the brave captain was as considerate in the 
handling of his sick sailors as a mother of her babe. And 
this is emphasized by making this statement in a line by itself. 

Stanza IV 

1. 24. — Again note the strength imparted by the successive 
accents in huge sea-castles heaving. 

1. 25-27. — The abruptness aptly fits in with the sentiment. 
Observe that the effect of the short line is brought out by 
the rhyme, fiy — die. The further apart the rhyme, the less 
striking it becomes. See lines 43-45, and 57-59. 

Stanza V 

1. 32. — Full of strength and admirably expressive in rhythm. 

1. 36. — Again we observe the retardation and its effect. 
Observe further, that this is the first time the concluding line 
of a stanza has deviated from the normal, and note how appro- 
priate is the deviation ; not merely for the sake of variety, but 
the spontaneous expression of feeling. 

Stanza VI 

1. 37-38. — How forceful is the effect of beginning each 
line with the accented syllable ! 

1. 42. — The contrast of this line with the preceding is 
most marked. Line 41 is long drawn out, while in 42 one 
can feel the shock of the abrupt stop. 

Stanza VIII 

1. 53-54. — The first four lines of this stanza are quite 
regular, but when we reach the last two, observe the corre- 
spondence between the rhythm and the sense. 



250 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Stanza IX 
1. 66-60. — How admirably tlie rliytlim lends itself to tlie 
expression of the feelings of tlie narrator as he recalls the 
terrible strain of that never-ending night! One must read 
the passage aloud to appreciate this effect. 

Stanza X 

1. 63. — Observe the strength of Fight on! Fight on! and 
also the contrast between the rhythm of this stanza and that 
of Stanza IX. 

The stanza as a whole moves quite rapidly, owing to the 
preponderance of unaccented syllables. The appropriateness 
of this rapid movement is recognized when we bear in mind 
that the stanza is intended to cite but one incident of that 
awful night, and serves only as a link between Stanzas IX 
and XI. 

Stanza XI 

1. 70. — Compare this rhythm with that of line 56, and 
observe how the emotion of Stanza IX is recalled by the 
similarity of rhythm. 

L 83-90.— Compare with lines 25-28 and 91-95. 

Stanza XIII 
1. 100, — Compare with lines 42 and 103, and note 
similarity of mood. 

Stanza XIV 
1. 112-119. — It is almost impossible to analyze the effect 
of these lines, so admirably do sound, sense, and rhythm 
correspond. We can, however, clearly observe the forceful 
effect of great gale Hew; the accumulation of power and size 
in line 115 j the exultant joy of the speaker as he describes 



STUDY IN RHYTHM 251 

the effect of the storm in lines 116 and 117; and the gradual 
diminution of the passion as the poem comes back to normal 
movement in the concluding line. 

IKTERPEETATIYE KOTES 

The poem as a whole is a magnificent specimen of vigorous 
Anglo-Saxon. There are few inversions, the style is simple 
and direct, and the imagery peculiarly appropriate. The 
speaker is a survivor, and brings us face to face with one of 
the proudest moments in the history of English naval 
warfare. 

The poem deals with an event at the close cf the expedi- 
tion of the Spanish Armada against Great Britain, and it is 
interesting to know that it is almost literally true to fact and 
history. 

Stanza I 

1. 4-7. — The opening words seem a little like brag. But 
Sir Richard's reply, which is borne out by history, proves the 
contrary. The oath is not the vain oath of a braggart, but 
the solemn words of one who believes in God and calls upon 
Him to bear witness to the truth of his statement. 

Stanza II 

1. 8. — The delivery of the first five words will certainly 
manifest the pride of the narrator in such a leader. 

1. 12. — Note the contempt expressed in dogs and devildoms. 

Stanza III 

1. 15-18. — Be sure to bring out the speaker's emotion. 
How the common sailor worships him who stayed to certain 
death to save the lives of his sick men ! 

1. 21. — Note the irony, contempt, and even hate. 



252 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Stanza IV 

1. 25-28. — The rhythm clearly indicates the abrupt man- 
ner in which these lines should be read. 

1. 29. — We be all good English men: this is Sir Richard's 
answer to their appeal. 

Stanza V 

1. 33. — Heart: right into the midst of the fleet. The 
Spaniards came down in double line of battle. It was evi- 
dently Sir Eichard's intention to attempt to escape with his 
fleet craft by running the gauntlet of heavy, large, unwieldy 
Spanish galleons. A picture of these galleons, with their 
triple and quadruple decks, will greatly assist us to compre- 
hend the disastrous outcome of one of the most elaborate 
naval demonstrations in the history of the world. The ves- 
sels were so unwieldy that only a few at a time could attack 
the Eevenge, and, by constant maneuvering, Sir Richard 
could almost always avoid the effect of their cannonading. 

Stanza VI 
1. 37-38. — There is bitter sarcasm in these lines as the 
speaker recalls the outcome of the fight. 

Stanza VIII 
1. 50. — Bethought herself: note the sarcasm. 

Stanza IX 

1. 56-60. — The emotion of these five lines is very strik- 
ing. Oh! the anguish, horror, and suspense of that awful 
night. The sun went down, but the battle went on. The 
stars came out, but still no rest. And so on, on, on, through 
that dreadful night. 

1. 62-61. — Observe the sudden transition and the exultant 
shout at the end. 



STUDY IN RHYTHM 253 

Stanza X 
See note on rlijrfclim. 

Stanza XI 
1. 72. — Observe the note of pride and grim determination. 

1. 74. — The speaker apologizes for even an appearance of 
boastf Illness. 

1. 75-81.— Pathos. 

1. 83-90. — Note the contrast between the emotion of Sir 
Eichard in these lines and that of the speaker in uttering 
lines 75-81. 

Stanza XII 

1. 92-95. — The sailors would natm-ally speak rapidly. The 
rhythm helps us to understand their feelings. 

1. 93. — And therefore we have no right to kill ourselves. 
A most significant line. 

Stanza XIII 

1. 99. — Observe the tribute the Englishman pays to his 
foe. See also line 108. The voice should manifest the 
speaker's attitude and will when we grasp the situation. 

1. 101-103. — Note and bring out the blunt defiance of Sir 
Richard. 

Stanza XIV 

1. 111. — How natural seems the use of her! It is express- 
ive of the sailor's love for his vessel. And further, we 
remark that the Eevenge becomes human as she yearns for 
those who so long have seemed her very children. 

1. 112. — Here we have one of the most significant lines in 
the whole poem. History tells us that a storm arose and 
shattered the remnant of the Armada, and sunk the battered 
hulk of the little Revenge. Poetry conjures up this storm as 



254 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

an avenging Nemesis. Out of the lands they had ruined 
comes the storm that avenges the Eevenge. 

L 118.— What tenderness is there in that word little! 

1. 118-119. — There is no regret in these lines. On the 
contrary, they are full of exultation. Remember, the poet 
was limited by history. He could not save the Revenge, but 
he could sink her on the spot where the glorious victory had 
been won. The picture of shattered greatness is not an 
inspiring one. If the Revenge had not sunk, she would have 
been dragged ignominiously at the hawser's end into some 
Spanish port, to become the object of every Spaniard's petty 
spite, and finally to fall into decay and ruin. Now she lives 
evermore as she was in that fight, a glorious inspiration to 
every son of England. 



HINTS ON KEADINGS 
YOUNG LOCHINVAR 

SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, 

Through all the wide Border his steed was the best : 

And save his good broad-sword he weapon had none, 

He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone ; 

So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, 

There never was knight like the young Lochinvar ! 6 

He stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for stone, 

He swam the Esk river where ford there was none — 

But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate, 

The bride had consented, the gallant came late : 

For a laggard in love and a dastard in war, 

Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. 12 

So boldly he entered the Netherby hall, 

'Mong bride's-men, and kinsmen, and brothers and ail: 



HINTS ON READINGS 255 

Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword — 

For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word — 

"O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war? 

Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?" 18 

"I long wooed your daughter, my suit was denied ; 

Love swells like the Sol way, but ebbs like its tide ! 

And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, 

To tread but one measure, drink one cup of wine ! 

There be maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far. 

That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar." 24 

The bride kissed the goblet ; the knight took it up. 

He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup ! 

She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh, 

With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye. 

He took her soft hand ere her mother could bar — 

"Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar. 30 

So stately his form, and so lovely her face. 

That never a hall such a galliard did grace ! 

While her mother did fret and her father did fume, 

And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume, 

And the bride-maidens whispered, " 'Twere better by far. 

To have matched our fair cousin to young Lochinvar!" 36 

One touch to her hand, and one word to her ear. 
When they reached the hall door, and the charger stood near. 
So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung. 
So light to the saddle before her he sprung ! 
"She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; 
They'll have fleet steeds that follow!" quoth young Loch- 43 
invar. 

There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan ; 

Fosters, Fen wicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran ; 

There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lea, 

But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see! 

So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, 

Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar! 48 



256 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

We observe, in the first place, that the rhythm is very 
pronounced. It reminds us of the rhythm of The Ride from 
Ghent ^ and suggests, in fact, what we soon discover to be 
true, that the two poems are in spirit very closely allied. 

]. 2-6 are intended to win our sympathy for the hero. 
Observe his courage in riding unarmed and alone. 

1. 10. — The accent on gallant is on the final syllable. 
Observe how the emphasis on -lant^ came^ and late retards the 
movement and suggests the contrast between Lochinvar's hope 
and his failure to arrive in time. 

1. 11. — Note the contempt in laggard and dastard. Also 
in line 16, where the movement is again retarded. 

1. 19-24. — How cleverly Lochinvar conceals his true 
intention, under the guise of indifference ! 

1. 20. — Love swells like ocean tides, but diminishes with 
equal rapidity : I can get along without your daughter. 

1. 32. — GalUard: a lively dance. 

1. 33-34. — Bring out the pictures clearly. Do not slur. 

1. 37. — Accelerate the movement, but not with a manu- 
factured speed. Catch the spirit of haste and the movement 
will accelerate itself. 

1. 41-42. — Note the triumphant joy of Lochinvar. 

1. 41. — Scaur: a steep bank; pronounced scar. 

1. 43-45. — The lively movement continues throughout 
these lines. 

1. 46. — This is a summary. The time will be slow when 
we recognize and endeavor to express the full import of the 
passage. 

Longfellow's Peace- Pipe^ from The Song of Hiawatha^ is 
particularly adapted to analytic study. We shall confine our 
study principally to questions of sense relations, such as 
Momentary Completeness, Values, and the like. 



HINTS ON READINGS ^S'J' 

THE PEACE-PIPE 

LONGFELLOW 

On the Mountains of the Prairie, 

On the great Red Pipe-Stone Quarry, 

Gitche Manito, the mighty, 

He the Master of Life, descending, 

On the red crags of the quarry 6 

Stood erect, and called the nations, 

Called the tribes of men together. 

From his footprints flowed a river, 
Leaped into the light of morning, 
O'er the precipice plunging downward 10 

Gleamed like Ishkoodah, the comet. 
And the Spirit, stooping earthward, 
With his finger on the meadow 
Traced a winding pathway for it, 
Saying to it, "Run in this way!" 16 

From the red stone of the quarry 
With his hand he broke a fragment, 
Moulded it into a pipe-head. 
Shaped and fashioned it with figures ; 
From the margin of the river 30 

Took a long reed for a pipe-stem, 
With its dark green leaves upon it ! 
Filled the pipe with bark of willow, 
With the bark of the red willow ; 
Breathed upon the neighboring forest, 25 

Made its great boughs chafe together, 
Till in flame they burst and kindled ; 
And erect upon the mountains, 
Gitche Manito, the mighty, 

Smoked the calumet, the Peace-Pipe, SO 

As a signal to the nations. 

And the smoke rose slowly, slow ly, 
Through the tranquil air of morning, 
First a single line of darkness. 

Then a denser, bluer vapor, 35 

Then a snow-white cloud unfolding, 
Like the tree-tops of the forest, 



258 BEADING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Ever rising, rising, rising. 

Till it touched the top of heaven, 

Till it broke against the heaven, 40 

And rolled outward all around it. 

From the Vale of Tawasentha, 
From the Valley of Wyoming, 
From the groves of Tuscaloosa, 

From the far-off Rocky Mountains, 45 

From the Northern lakes and rivers 
All the tribes beheld the signal, 
Saw the distant smoke ascending, 
The Pukwana of the Peace-Pipe. 

And the Prophets of the nations 50 

Said: "Behold it, the Pukwana! 
By this signal from afar off, 
Bending like a wand of willow. 
Waving like a hand that beckons, 
Gitche Manito, the mighty, 55 

Calls the tribes of men together, 
Calls the warriors to his council!" 

Down the rivers, o'er the prairies. 
Came the warriors of the nations. 
Came the Dela wares and Mohawks, 60 

Came the Choctaws and Camanches, 
Came the Shoshonies and Blackfeet, 
Came the Pawnees and Omahas, 
Came the Mandans and Dacotahs, 
Cam© the Hurons and Ojibways, 65 

All the warriors drawn together 
By the signal of the Peace-Pipe, 
To the Mountains of the Prairie, 
To the Great Red Pipe -Stone Quarry. 

And they stood there on the meadow, 70 

With their weapons and their war- gear, 
Painted like the leaves of Autumn, 
Painted like the sky of morning, 
Wildly glaring at each other ; 

In their faces stern defiance, 75 

In their hearts the feuds of ages. 



HINTS ON READINGS 359 

The hereditary hatred, 

The ancestral thirst of vengeance. 

Gitche Manito, the mighty, 
The creator of the nations, 80 

Looked upon them with compassion. 
With paternal love and pity ; 
Looked upon their wrath and wrangling 
But as quarrels among children, 
But as feuds and fights of children ! 85 

Over them he stretched his right hand, 
To subdue their stubborn natures. 
To allay their thirst and fever, 
By the shadow of his right hand ; 
Spake to them with voice majestic 90 

As the sound of far-off waters, 
Falling into deep abysses, 
Warning, chiding, spake in this wise : — 

"O my children! my poor children! 
Listen to the words of wisdom, 95 

Listen to the words of warning. 
From the lips of the Great Spirit, ■ 
From the Master of Life, who made you! 

"I have given you lands to hunt in, 
I have given you streams to fish in, 100 

I have given you bear and bison, 
I have given you roe and reindeer, 
I have given you brant and beaver, 
Filled the marshes full of wild- fowl, 
Filled the rivers full of fishes ; 105 

Why then are you not contented? 
Why then will you hunt each other? 

*'I am weary of your quarrels. 
Weary of your wars and bloodshed, 
Weary of your prayers for vengeance, 110 

Of your wranglings and dissensions ; 
All your strength is in your union, 
All your danger is in discord ; 
Therefore be at peace henceforward, 
And as brothers live together. 115 



260 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

"I will send a Prophet to you, 
A Deliverer of the nations, 
"Who shall guide you and shall teach you, 
Who shall toil and suffer with you» 
If you listen to his counsels, 120 

You will multiply and prosper ; 
If his warnings pass unheeded, 
You will fade away and perish I 

"Bathe now in the stream before you, 
Wash the war-paint from your faces, 125 

Wash the blood-stains from your fingers, 
Bury your war-clubs and your weapons, 
Break the red stone from this quarry, 
Mould and make it into Peace Pipes, 
Take the reeds that grow beside you, 130 

Deck them with your brightest feathers, 
Smoke the calumet together. 
And as brothers live henceforvvrard!" 

Then upon the ground the warriors 
Threw their cloaks and shirts of deer-skin, 135 

Threw their weapons and their war-gear, 
Leaped into the rushing river, 
Washed the v^ar-paint from their faces. 
Clear above them flowed the water. 
Clear and limpid from the footprints 140 

Of the Master of Life descending ; 
Dark below them flowed the water. 
Soiled and stained with streaks of crimson, 
As if blood were mingled with it ! 

From the river came the warriors, 145 

Clean and washed from all their war-paint ; 
On the banks their clubs they buried, 
Buried all their warlike weapons. 
Gitche Manitou, the mighty, 

The Great Spirit, the creator, ' 150 

Smiled upon his helpless children ! 

And in silence all the warriors 
Broke the red stone of the quarry. 
Smoothed and formed it into Peace-Pipes, 



HINTS ON READINGS 261 

Broke the long reeds by the river, 155 

Decked them with their brightest feathers, 

And departed each one homeward, 

While the Master of Life, ascending. 

Through the opening of cloud- curtains, 

Through the doorways of the heaven, 160 

Vanished from before their faces, 

In the smoke that rolled around him, 

The Pukwana of the Peace-Pipe ! 

It is to be hoped that the following notes will be carefully 
considered. Inflections are most subtle indications of inter- 
pretation, and their meaning none too well apprehended. 
Time spent in such an analysis as that herein undertaken 
should solve all the ordinary difficulties of the class-room. 

1. 1. — Incomplete, hence rising inflection* on Prairie. 

1. 2. — The same inflection on Quarry. 

1. 3-5. — {ci) Gifche Manito is the central idea; hence there 
will be more force on those words, {h) ]S"ote that descending 
is separated fi'om the next line by a comma. This is a -good 
illustration of the function of punctuation ; for if the comma 
were not inserted we should read, descending On the red 
crags of the quarry^ and should not learn of our mistake until 
we came to the next line. 

1. 6. — Nations: falling inflection. A good illustration of 
the principle that punctuation does not determine inflection : 
the sense is complete, and the falling inflection instinctively 
denotes that fact. The whole paragraph is pointing forward 
to the main statement, called the nations. There might be 
some reason in the use of a falling inflection on erects but 
perhaps the other interpretation is to be preferred. 

*Let it be understood once for all that the various elements in ex- 
pression should be the spontaneous outcome of the mental action. As 
has been so often stated, to tell a pupil to use a rising" iniiection or to 
emphasize this word or that, is a violation of the fundamental principle 
of correct teaching-. 



262 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

1. 8-9. — Falling inflections on river and on morning. 

1. 10. — Eising inflection on downward. There is likeli- 
hood of misinterpretation here. Paraphrased, lines 10 and 11 
are equivalent to, And the river, plunging downward over 
the precipice, gleamed like Ishkoodah, the comet. 

]. 11. — Falling inflection on Ishkoodah^ because the river 
did not gleam like the comet Ishkoodah, but like Ishkoodah, 
which is the Indian name for comet. 

1. 12. — Stooping earthward: subordinate idea. 

1. 12-15. — It is surprising how careless pupils are in read- 
ing these lines. They nearly always read them to convey the 
idea that the Spirit stooped earthward with his finger on the 
meadow. Observe how the meaning is brought out by the 
following reading : 

And the Spirit (pause), stooping earthward (pause), 
With his finger (pause) on the meadow (pause) , 
Traced a winding pathway for it (pause), 

f V 

Saying to it (pause), "Eun in this way!" 

1. 17-19. — The melody is virtually the same in each of 
these lines, with a falling inflection on fragment, pipe-head 
Mid. figures. 

1. 21. — Eising inflection preferable on pipe-stem. The 
poem abounds in lines ending with falling inflections; 
hence, one should be on the alert for such lines as this. 

1. 23. — Falling inflection on willoio. 

1. 25-26. — Eising inflection on forest and on together. 
We note that these two lines point forward. 

Ic 28-31. — Eising inflections throughout, even on calumet, 
upon which word the pupil often errs. 

1. 30. — The Peace-Pipe is not a subordinate idea; it is an 
idea coordinate with calumet. 



HINTS ON READINGS 263 

1. 32. — Observe tlie rhytliniic change and its meaning. 

1. 33. — Falling inflection on morning. Lines 32 and 33 
contain the general statement, and 

1. 34-39 contain the particular. When we perceive this 
latter fact we will use the rising inflection at the end of each 
line until we reach heaven in line 39, when, of course, we 
shall have the falling. 

1. 37. — Subordinateo 

1. 40. — Observe that broke is the emphatic word, not 
against. Eising inflection on heaven. 

1. 42-46. — It is an open question whether we should use a 
rising or a falling inflection at the end of each of these lines. 
To use the falling would convey the idea that each detail was 
important ; to use the rising, to lay the stress upon the whole. 
(See Momentary Completeness, page 61, et seq.) The former 
reading seems the better. 

1. 51. — Falling inflection on Behold it. 

1. 53-54. — Subordinate. 

1. 56. — Falling inflection on together. 

1. 58. — An interesting point is presented in this line- The 
poet intends to convey the idea that some tribes came dotvn 
the rivers and others o^er the prairies. Hence the melody 
and force of the two phrases will be identical. 

1. 59. — Falling inflection on nations. 

1. 60-65. — The most natural interpretation seems to be to 
use a rising inflection on the name of the first tribe in each 
line, and a falling on the second. 

1. 66-67. — Rising inflection on together and on Peace-Pipe, 

1. 68. — Falling inflection on Prairie. 

I. 70. — Rising inflection on meadow, 

1. 71-74. — Falling inflection on ivar-gear, Auttimn^ 
morning^ and other. 

L 74, — This is the strongest line of the four. 



264 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

1. 75-76. — Faces and hearts are not contrasted. The 
melody of the two lines is virtually the same. 

1. 81. — Falling inflection on compassion. 

1. 86. — Falling inflection on ha^id is to be preferred. 

1. 87-89. — These three lines should be construed as one 
idea. Hence rising inflection will be given on natures and 
on fever. 

1. 90-93. — Kising inflections on majestic^ waters, warn- 
ing, chiding. Why? Falling inflection on ahysses. 
Why? 

1. 94. — Does he use rising inflection or falling on chil- 
dren? What would be the difference in the idea conveyed by 
each? 

1. 95-96. — Do these lines mean "Will you not listen?" 
If so they are full of pleading. If the speaker is imperative 
the inflection will be falling. 

1. 98. — Falling inflection on Life. Observe how meaning- 
ful are the words who made you. 

I. 99-105. — Shall there be rising or falling inflection at 
the end of these lines? What would each convey respectively? 

1. 112. — Observe the radical change in the speaker's 
attitude. He has been asserting; now he argues and 
pleads. 

1. 116-117. — Falling inflection on you and on nations. 

1. 118. — Rising inflection on guide. 

1. 119. — Toil and suffer should be joined together, with 
the main pause after suffer. Do not emphasize with. 

1. 121. — Rising inflection on multiply. 

1. 122. — Note the contrast on unheeded. 

1. 124-127. — Falling inflection on all the emphatic words. 
There will be a tendency to use the rising inflection on war- 
paint, bloodstains, loar-cluls. 

1. 128.— Rising inflection on quarry. Why? 



HINTS ON READINGS ^65 

1. 130. — Rising inflection on you. 

1. 131. — Falling inflection on feathers. 

1. 133. — Principal pause after hr others, with perhaps a 
brief pause after live. 

1. 134. — Short pause after then; longer after ground. 

1. 135. — Eising inflection on deer-slcin seems preferable. 

1. 136. — Falling inflection on war-gear. 

1. 138. — Falling inflection oufaces^ 

1. 139. — Falling inflection on tuater. 

1. 140. — Falling inflection on limpid. 

1. 142. — Rising inflection on ivater. 

1. 143-144. — Falling inflection on crimson and on Uood. 

1. 134-144. — This is the climax of the poem. When one 
grasps this idea the voice becomes full of joy. B« sure to get 
the picture of the clear and limpid water as it flows down to 
where the warriors are, and note the change as it passes lelow 
them, tinged with the war-paint it has washed away. Note 
the emphasis on clear above, and on dark lelow. 

1. 145. — Rising inflection on warriors. 

1. 148. — Falling inflection on lueapons. 

1. 149-150, — Rising inflection on mighty and on creator. 

]. 151.— Falling inflection on smiled. 

1. 152. — Pause after silence; rising inflection on warriors. 

1. 153. — Rising inflection on quarry. 

1. 154. — ^Falling inflection on Peace-Pipes. 

1. 155-156. — Rising inflection on river, feathers. 

1. 158. — Note the pause after ascending. He ascended 
through and vanished in. 

1. 158-160. — Rising inflection on Life, ascending, cur- 
tains, and heaven. 

\ 161, — ^Falling inflection on vanished; rising on faces. 

\^ 162. — It seems that the rising inflection would be 
preferable on him. 



266 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

In the following poem it is purposed to offer comments 
principally as to the movement. There is nothing that con- 
duces more to variety in reading than frequent changes in 
movement. Not that these changes should be haphazard; on 
the contrary, as we have seen in Chapter I, there is a definite 
principle underlying movement. The analysis should reveal 
that the various ideas are of different degrees of importance, 
and the recognition of these differences will lead to the 
variety of movement. 

Attention is also directed to transitions, and occasionally 
to the atmosphere. 

Every comment should be carefully considered and chal- 
lenged. The printed page is a monochrome of type. The 
danger is, therefore, that we read monotonously. With the 
years we acquire a fatal facility for pronouncing words with- 
out getting the underlying thought. The object of these 
analyses is to take the mind from the words to the ideas which 
they express, and so to improve the reading. 

HORATIUS 

A LAY MADE ABOUT THE YEAR OF THE CITY CCCIX 

I* 

Lars Porsena of Clusium 

By the Nine Gods he swore 
That the great house of Tarquin 

Should suffer wrong no more. 
By the Nine Gods he swore it, 5 

And named a trysting day, 
And bade his messengers ride forth. 
East and west and south and north. 

To summon his array. 



*The stanzas are numbered as in the original poem. 



HINTS ON READINGS 267 

XI 

And now hath every city 10 

Sent up her tale of men : 
The foot are fourscore thousand, 

The horse are thousands ten. 
Before the gates of Sutrium 

Is met the great array. 15 

A proud man was Lars Porsena 

Upon the trysting day. 

XII 

For all the Etruscan armies 

Were ranged beneath his eye, 
And many a banished Roman, 30 

And many a stout ally ; 
And with a mighty following 

To join the muster came 
The Tusculan Mamilius, 

Prince of the Latian name. 25 

XIII 

But by the yellow Tiber 

Was tumult and affright : 
From all the spacious champaign 

To Rome men took their flight. 
A mile around the city, 30 

The throng stopped up the ways : 
A fearful sight it was to see 

Through two long nights and days. 

XIV 

For aged folks on crutches. 

And women great with child, 35 

And mothers sobbing over babes 

That clung to them and smiled, 
And sick men borne in litters 

High on the necks of slaves, 
And troops of sunburned husbandmen 40 

With reaping-hooks and staves, 



268 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

XV 

And droves of mules and asses 

Laden with skins of wine, 
And endless flocks of goats and sheep, 

And endless herds of kine, 45 

And endless trains of wagons 

That creaked beneath the weight 
Of corn-sacks and of household goods, 

Choked every roaring gate. 

XVI 

Now, from the rock Tarpeian, 50 

Could the wan burghers spy 
The line of blazing villages 

Red in the midnight sky. 
The Fathers of the city. 

They sat all night and day ; 55 

For every hour some horseman came 

With tidings of dismay. 



XIX 

They held a council, standing 

Before the River Gate: 
Short time was there, ye may well guess, 60 

For musing or debate. 
Out spake the Consul roundly : 

"The bridge must straight go down; 
For, since Janiculum is lost. 

Naught else can save the town. " 65 

XX 

Just then a scout came flying, 

All wild with haste and fear: 
"To arms! to arms! Sir Consul: 

Lars Porsena is here. ' ' 
On the low hills to westward 70 

The Consul fixed his eye, 
And saw the swarthy storm of dust 

Rise fast along the sky. 



HINTS ON READINGS 269 

XXI 

And nearer fast, and nearer, 

Doth the red whirlwind come ; 75 

And louder still, and still more loud. 
From underneath that rolling cloud, 
Is heard the trumpet's war-note proud, 

The trampling and the hum. 
And plainly, and more plainly, 80 

Now through the gloom appears. 
Far to left, and far to right, 
In broken gleams of dark-blue light, 
The long array of helmets bright, 

The long array of spears. 85 



XXV 

But when the face of Sextus 

Was seen among the foes, 
A yell that rent the firmament 

From all the town arose. 
On the housetops was no woman 90 

But spat towards him, and hissed ; 
No child but screamed out curses, 

And shook its little fist. 

XXVI 

But the. Consul's brow was sad, 

And the Consul's speech was low; 95 

And darkly looked he at the wall. 

And darkly at the foe. 
* 'Their van will be upon us 

Before the bridge goes down ; 
And if they once may win the bridge, 100 

What hope to save the town?'* 

XXVII 

Then out spake brave Horatius, 

The Captain of the Gate: 
'"To every man upon this earth, 

Death cometh soon or late. 105 



270 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

And how can man die better 
Than facing fearful odds 

For the ashes of his fathers, 
And the temples of his gods, 



XXIX 

"Hew down the bridge. Sir Consul, 110 

With all the speed ye may : 
I, with two more to help me. 

Will hold the foe in play. 
In yon strait path a thousand 

May well be stopped by three. 115 

Now, who will stand on either hand, 

And keep the bridge with me?" 

XXX 

Then out spake Spurius Lartius, — 

A Ramnian proud was he, — 
"Lo, I will stand at thy right hand, 120 

And keep the bridge with thee." 
And out spake strong Herminius, — 

Of Titian blood was he, — 
"I will abide on thy left side. 

And keep the bridge with thee." 125 

XXXI 

"Horatius," quoth the Consul, 

"As thou sayest, so let it be." 
And straight against that great array 

Forth went the dauntless Three. 
For Romans in Rome's quarrel 130 

Spared neither land nor gold, 
Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life, 

In the brave days of old. 



XXXIV 

Now, while the Three were tightening 
Their harness on their backs, 135 



HINTS ON READINGS 271 

The Consul was the foremost man 

To take in hand an axe. 
And Fathers mixed with commons 

Seized hatchet, bar, and crow, 
And smote upon the planks above, 140 

And loosed the props below. 

XXXV 

Meanwhile the Tuscan army, 

Right glorious to behold. 
Come flashing back the noonday light, 
Rank behind rank, like surges bright 145 

Of a broad sea of gold. 
Four hundred trumpets sounded 

A peal of warlike glee, 
As that great host, with measiired tread. 
And spears advanced, and ensigns spread, 150 

Rolled slowly towards the bridge's head, 

Where stood the dauntless Three, 

XXXVI 

The Three stood calm and silent. 

And looked upon the foes, 
And a great shout of laughter 155 

From all the vanguard rose : 
And forth three chiefs came spurring 

Before that deep array ; 
To earth they sprang, their swords they drew, 
And lifted high their shields, and flew 160 

To win the narrow way. 



XXXVIII 

Stout Lartius hurled down Annus 

Into the stream beneath ; 
Herminius struck at Seius, 

And clove him to the teeth ; 165 

At Picus brave Horatius 

Darted one fiery thrust, 



'^2 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

And the proud Umbrian's gilded arms 
Clashed in the bloody dust. 



XL 

Herminius smote down Aruns; 170 

Lartius laid Ocnus low ; 
Right to the heart of Lausulus 

Horatius sent a blow. 
"Lie there," he cried, ''fell pirate! 

No more, aghast and pale, 175 

From Ostia's walls the crowd shall mark 
The track of thy destroying bark. 
No more Campania's hinds shall fly 
To woods and caverns when they spy 

Thy thrice accursed sail. " 180 

XLI 

But now no sound of laughter 

Was heard among the foes. 
A wild and wrathful clamor 

From all the vanguard rose. 
Six spears' lengths from the entrance 185 

Halted that deep array, 
And for a space no man came forth 

To win the narrow way. 

XLII 

But hark ! the cry is Astur ; 

And lo ! the ranks divide, 190 

And the great Lord of Luna 

Comes with his stately stride. 
Upon his ample shoulders 

Clangs loud the fourfold shield, 
And in his hand he shakes the brand 195 

Which none but he can wield. 

XLIII 

He smiled on those bold Romans, 
A smile serene and high 



HINTS ON READINGS 273 

He eyed, the flinching Tuscans, 

And scorn was in his eye. 200 

Quoth he, "The she- wolf's litter 

Stand savagely at bay ; 
But will ye dare to follow 

If Astur clears the way?" 

XLIV 

Then, whirling up his broadsword 205 

With both hands to the height, 
He rushed against Horatius, 

And smote with all his might. 
With shield and blade Horatius 

Right deftly turned the blow. 210 

The blow, though ttirned, came yet too nigh : 
It missed its helm, but gashed his thigh. 
The Tuscans raised a joyful cry 

To see the red blood flow. 

XLV 

He reeled, and on Herminius 215 

He leaned one breathing-space, 
Then, like a wild-cat mad with wounds, 

Sprang right at Astur's face. 
Through teeth and skull and helmet, 

So fierce a thrust he sped, 220 

The good sword stood a hand-breadth out 

Behind the Tuscan's head. 

XLVI 

And the great Lord of Luna 

Fell at that deadly stroke. 
As falls on Mount Alvernus 225 

A thunder-smitten oak. 



XLVII 

On Astur's throat Horatius 
Right firmly pressed his heel, 



274 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

And thrice and four times tugged amain, 
Ere he wrenched out the steel. 230 

*'And see," he cried, *'the welcome, 
Fair guests, that waits you here 1 

What noble. Lucumo comes next 
To taste our Roman cheer?" 



LI 

Yet one man for one moment 235 

Strode out before the crowd : 
Well known was he to all the Three, 

And they gave him greeting loud, 
** Now welcome, welcome, Sextus! 

Now welcome to thy home ! 240 

Why dost thou stay, and turn away? 

Here lies the road to Rome." 

LII 

Thrice looked he at the city ; 

Thrice looked he at the dead ; 
And thrice came on in fury, 245 

And thrice turned back in dread, 
And, white with fear and hatred. 

Scowled at the narrow way. 
Where, wallowing in a pool of blood, 

The bravest Tuscans lay. 250 

LIII 

But meanwhile axe and lever 

Have manfully been plied ; 
And now the bridge hangs tottering 

Above the boiling tide. 
"Come back, come back, Horatiusl" 255 

Loud cried the Fathers all. 
"Back, Lartius! back, Herminius! 

Back, ere the ruin fall I" 



HINTS ON READINGS 275 

LIV 

Back darted Spurius Lartius: 

Herminius darted back : 260 

And, as they passed, beneath their feet 

They felt the timbers crack. 
But when they turned their faces, 

And on the farther shore 
Saw brave Horatius stand alone, 265 

They would have crossed once more. 

LV 

But with a crash like thunder 

Fell every loosened beam, 
And, like a dam, the mighty wreck 

Lay right athwart the stream : 270 

And a long shout of trium.ph 

Rose from the walls of Rome, 
As to the highest turret -tops 

Was splashed the yellow foam. 

LVI 

And like a horse unbroken, 275 

When first he feels the rein, 
The furious river struggled hard, ' 

And tossed his tawny mane, 
And burst the curb, and bounded. 

Rejoicing to be free, 280 

And whirling down, in fierce career. 
Battlement and plank and pier, 

Rushed headlong to the sea. 

LVII 

Alone stood brave Horatius, 

But constant still in mind ; 285 

Thrice thirty thousand foes before. 

And the broad flood behind. 
"Down with him!" cried false Sextus, 

With a smile on his pale face. 
"Now yield thee," cried Lars Porsena, 290 

"Now yield thee to our grace. " 



276 EEADING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

LVIII 

Round turned he, as not deigning 

Those craven ranks to see ; 
Naught spake he to Lars Porsena, 

To Sextus naught spake he ; 295 

But he saw on Palatinus 

The white porch of his home, 
And he spake to the noble river 

That rolls by the towers of Rome. 

LIX 

*'0 Tiber! father Tiber! 300 

To whom the Romans pray, 
A Roman's life, a Roman's arms, 

Take thou in charge this day!" 
So he spake, and, speaking, sheathed 

The good sword by his side, 805 

And with his harness on his back, 

Plunged headlong in the tide. 

LX 

No sound of joy or sorrow 

Was heard from either bank : 
But friends and foes in dumb surprise, 310 

With parted lips and straining eyes. 

Stood gazing where he sank ; 
And when above the surges. 

They saw his crest appear, 
All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry, 315 

And even the ranks of Tuscany 

Could scarce forbear to cheer. 

LXI 

But fiercely ran the current, 

Swollen high by months of rain: 
And fast his blood was flowing, 820 

And he was sore in pain. 
And heavy with his armor, 



HINTS ON READINGS 277 

And spent with changing blows; 
And oft they thought him sinking, 
But still again he rose. 835 

LXIII 

"Curse on him!" quoth false Sextus: 

"Will not the villain drown? 
But for this stay, ere close of day 

We should have sacked the town!" 
"Heaven help himl" quoth Lars Porsena, 330 

"And bring him safe to shore; 
For such a g'allant feat of arms 

Was never seen before." 

LXIV 

And now he feels the bottom ; 

Now on dry earth he stands ; ' 835 

Now round him throng the Fathers, 

To press his gory hands ; 
And now, with shouts and clapping, 

And noise of weeping loud, 
He enters through the River-Gate, 840 

Borne by the joyous crowd. 

Stanza I 

1. 1-4. — The exalted position of Lars Porsena, the oath, 
and the grandeur of the Tarquin house, all contribute to make 
the movement slow and the atmosphere dignified. 

1. 5. — Note the repetition and its effect on the movement. 

1. 7. — Eather fast. 

1. 8. — According to the importance we attach to this line 
will be the rate of movement. If it means simply in all 
directions, the time will be moderate. If, however, we desire 
to emphasize that the messengers rode far to the east, and far 
to the west, and so forth, the time will be slow. Probably 
the former is the better interpretation. 



278 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Stanza XI 
Colloquial style and moderate time prevail throughout the 
stanza except in 

1. 16, where the transition is marked. 

Stanza XII 
The atmosphere is that of the pride of Porsena in his army. 

Stanza XIII 

L 26. — Observe the transition to the atmosphere of fright 
and terror that pervades the entire stanza. 

1. 30. — Conceive that mass of humanity and note how the 
length of the inflection on mile is extended. 

L 33. — Yery slow; each day and each night seems to be 
endless. 

Stanzas XIY and XV 
. Observe that the principal verb does not appear until line 
49. Hence there will be a rising inflection at the end of 
every line of these stanzas except 49. 

The movement is rather fast and the atmosphere that of 
despair. 

1. 49.^ — Very slow. 

Stanza XVI 
1. 50-54, — Narrative style. 
1. 55. — Slow. 
1. 56. — Note the longer inflections on every hour. 

Stanza XIX 

1, 58. — Be careful to separate the last two words. 
1, 63.—- Slower time and marked transition. 



HINTS ON READINGS 279 

Stanza XX 

1. 66-67. — Fast time; not in imitation of the speed of the 
scout, but in sympathy with his feelings. 

1. 68-69. — JSTo effort should be made to shriek these words; 
it is sufficient to suggest the fact that he is calling, and hia 
fear. The time will be fast. 

1. 70. — Observe the change in time and atmosphere. 

1. 73. — A good illustration of the principle underlying 
movement. This line is read slowly, for it announces the 
doom of the city. 

Stanza XXI 

1. 74-75,— Moderate time. 

1. 76-79. — Note that the time grows gradually slower as the 
mind becomes more and more engrossed with the picture, and 
how the voice swells with increasing grandeur. 

L 80-85. — Prevailingly moderate movement. 

L 84. — Rising inflection on hriglit because the speaker no 
doubt has in mind the two lines, 84 and 85. 

Stanza XXV 

The hatred and contempt of the speaker will color the 
entire stanza. The movement will be on the whole moderate. 

1. 88.— Slow. 

Stanza XXVI 

1. 94. — Slower time, and an atmosphere of sadness. Bear 
in mind the speaker sympathizes with the Consul. 

1. 98. — Despair and sadness. 

Stanza XXVII 

1. 102-103. — Manifest the speaker's pride in Horatius, and 
note the striking contrast between the atmosphere of these lines 
and that of the concluding lines of the preceding stanza. 

1. 104-109. — Solemn and deliberate. 



280 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Stanza XXIX 

1. 110-115. — Note the ctiange in Horatius. 

1. 116-117. — As if addressing the crowd; a marked transi- 
tion. 

Stanza XXX 

A good study in variety; nearly every line presents a 
change of atmosphere. 

. ; Stanza XXXI 

1. 126-127. — ^Very deliberately the Consul spealis. Why? 
What are his feelings? 

1. 128-129. — Observe the patriotic ring in the speaker's 
T^ords. 

Stanza XXXIV 

The stanza is in simple narrative style, and contains but 
little emotion. The significant idea is that the patricians in 
this hour of trial worked side by side with plebeians. 

Stanza XXXV 
The time is moderate at the beginning, becoming gradually 
slower to the end. 

Observe the change in atmosphere in the last line. Once 
more it is well to remind the reader that the speaker is a 
patriot. 

Stanza XXXVI 

The movement of the first two lines is rather slow ; after 
that it accelerates to the end, in sympathy with the fast mov- 
ing picture. 

Stanza XXXVIII 

The atmosphere is that of struggle and of the joy of vic- 
tory. 

The time will be rather fast, retarding towards the close. 



HINTS ON READINGS 281 

Stanza XL 

1. 170-173. — See note on preceding stanza. 

1. 174. — Transition. Observe the liate of Horatius. 

Stanza XLI 
The time is prevailingly slow, and the atmosphere in 
marked contrast to that of the preceding stanza. There is, 
too, a note of contempt and irony. 

Stanza XLII 

1. 189. — Abrupt transition to atmosphere of what is almost 
fear. Time fast. 

1. 190-196. — Time slow, and atmosphere in sympathy with 
the size and strength of Astnr. 

Stanza XLIII 

1. 197-198. — Observe the contrast between the atmos- 
phere of these lines and that of the succeeding two. 
1. 201-202. — "Astur's contempt for his own allies. 
1. 203.— Boastfully. 

Stanza XLIY 

1. 205-208.— Fast and strong. 

1. 209-210.— Fast. 

1. 211-212. — Slower, and note change in feeling: Horatius 
is wounded. 

1. 213-214. — The joy of the enemy serves but to increase 
the speaker's sorrow. 

Stanza XLV 
1. 217-222. — Note the intensity of the speaker's feeling 
and his savage joy at the close. 



282 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Stanza XLVI 
Slow time througliout. 

Stanza XLYII 

1. 227. — Moderate time. 

1. 231-234. — Transition to the proud and contemptuous 
defiance of Horatius. The time is moderate; the key is high, 
because Horatius is calling to the opposing army. 

Stanza LI 

1. 235-236. — Simple narrative. 

1. 237-238.— Contemptuous. 

L 239-242. — Sarcastic throughout. Time quite slow. 

Stanza LII 

1. 246. — Very slow and contemptuous, especially the last 
four words. Falling inflection on dread. 

Stanza LIII 

1. 251. — Note the transition. 

1. 251-254.--Eather fast. 

1. 255. — Suggest the sustained call and the warning. 

1. 256. — Subordinate. 

1. 257-258. — Faster and with greater trepidation. 

Stanza LIV 

1. 259-262.~Fast. 
1. 263.— Transition. 

Stanza LV 

This stanza is the climax of the poem. Horatius' work is 
done ! The atmosphere is that of joy, triumph, and exultation. 



HINTS ON READINGS 283 

Stanza LVI 

Tlie excitement of the speaker carries Ilim on with head- 
long speed as he recalls the picture described in this stanza. 

Stanza LVII 
1. 384. — The excitement subsides. 
1. 286-287.— No hope. 

1. 289. — What is the emotion of Sextus? Note the smile. 
1. 290. — Observe the difference between Lars Porsena and 
Sextus in their feelings toward Horatius. 

Stanza LVIII 

1. 292. — Slower time. Is there not a note of pride in the 
speaker's voice as he recalls the bravery of Horatius? 
1. 297-299.— Tender and slow. 

Stanza LIX 

1. 300-303.— Slow and reverential. 

1. 304-307. — Rather fast, with pause before and after 
headlong. 

Stanza LX 

1. 308-312.— Rather slow. 

L 313.— Note transition to the feeling of joj. 

Stanza LXI 

The entire stanza is permeated with the speaker's suspense 
and with his sympathy with the struggles of the wounded 
man. 

Stanza LXIII 

Observe again the contrast between Sextus and Lars Por- 
sena, both enemies of Horatius. 



284 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Stanza LXIV 

If we will follow the picture and describe it as we see it 
and as the speaker now recalls it, we will make long pauses 
after lottom and stands. 

The time increases in rapidity through the first four lines, 
and then is retarded to the end. 

The atmosphere of the first four lines is that of joy, and it 
is hardly possible to keep back the tears as we utter the last 
four. 

In the final selection we shall call attention to all the 
interpretative difficulties which the teacher is likely to meet 
with in the class-room. There is no reason why such a piece 
of literature as this cannot be used to advantage even in the 
public school, provided we take the time for careful analysis, 

JULIUS CAESAR.— Shakespeare 

Act IV., Scene 3 

Brutus's Tent 

Enter Brutus and Cassius 

Cas. That you have wrong' d me doth appear in this: 
You have condemn'd and noted Lucius Pella . . 

For taking bribes here of the Sardians ; 
Wherein my letters, praying on his side, 
Because I knew the man, were slighted off. 

Bru. You wrong' d yourself to write in such a case. 

Cas. In such a time as this it is not meet 
That every nice offence should bear his comment. 

Bru. Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself 
Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm; 10 

To sell and mart your offices for gold 
To undeservers. 

Cas. I an itching palm ! 

You know that you are Brutus that speak this, 
Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last. 

Bru, The name of Cassius honours this corruption, 



HINTS ON READINGS 285 

And chastisement doth therefore hide his head. 

Cas. Chastisement ! 

Bru. Remember March, the ides of March remember : 
Did not great Julius bleed for justice sake? 

What villain touch' d his body, that did stab, 20 

And not for justice? What, shall one of us. 
That struck the foremost man of all tliis world 
But for supporting robbers, shall we now 
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes. 
And sell the mighty space of our large honours 
For so much trash as may be grasped thus? 
I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, 
Than such a Roman. 

Cas. Brutus, bay not me ; 

I'll not endure it; you forget yourself. 

To hedge me in ; I am a soldier, I, 30 

Older in practice, abler than yourself 
To make conditions. 

Bru. Go to ; you are not, Cassius. 

Cas. I am. 

Bru. I say you are not. 

Cas. Urge me no more, I shall forget myself ; 
Have mind upon your health, tempt me no farther. 

Bru. Away, slight man! 

Cas. Is't possible? 

Bru. Hear me, for I will speak. 

Must I give way and room to your rash choler? 
Shall I be frighted when a madman stares? 40 

Cas. O ye gods, ye gods ! must I endure all this? 

Bru. All this ! ay, more : fret till your proud heart break ; 
Go show your slaves how choleric you are, 
And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge? 
Must I observe you? must I stand and crouch 
Under your testy humour? By the gods, 
You shall digest the venom of your spleen, 
Though it do split you ; for, from this day forth, 
I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter, 
When you are waspish. 

Cas. Is it come to this? 50 



286 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Bru. You say you are a better soldier ; 
Let it appear so ; make your vaunting true, 
And it shall please me well : for mine own part, 
I shall be glad to learn of noble men. 

Cas. You wrong me every way ; you wrong me, Brutus ; 
I said, an elder soldier, not a better : 
Did I say 'better'? 

Bru. If you did, I care not. 

Cas. When Caesar lived, he durst not thus have moved me. 

Bru. Peace, peace ! you durst not so have tempted him. 

Cas. I durst not! 60 

Bru. No. 

Cas. What, durst not tempt him ! 

Bru. For your life you durst not. 

Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love ; 
I may do that I shall be sorry for. 

Bru. You have done that you should be sorry for. 
There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats. 
For I am arm'd so strong in honesty 
That they pass by me as the idle wind, 
Which I respect not. I did send to you 

For certain sums of gold, which you denied me : 70 

For I can raise no money by vile means : 
By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, 
And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring 
From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash 
By any indirection : I did send 
To you for gold to pay my legions, 
Which you denied me : was that done like Cassius? 
Should I have answer' d Caius Cassius so? 
When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous. 

To lock such rascal counters from his friends, 80 

Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts ; 
Dash him to pieces ! 

Cas. I denied you not, 

Bru. You did. 

Cas. I did not : he was but a fool that brought 
My answer back. Brutus hath rived my heart : 
A friend should bear his friend's infirmities, 



HINTS ON READINGS 287 

But Brutus makes mine greater thaji they are. 

Bru. I do not, till you practise them on me. 

Cas. You love me not. 

Bru. I do not like your faults. 

Cas. a friendly eye could never see such faults. 90 

Bru. a flatterer's would not, though they do appear 
As huge as high Olympus. 

Cas. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come, 
Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius, 
For Cassius is aweary of the world : 
Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother; 
Check' d like a bondman; all his faults observed. 
Set in a note-book, learn'd, and conn'd by rote. 
To cast into my teeth. O, I could weep 

My spirit from mine eyes ! There is my dagger, 1 00 

And here my naked breast ; within, a heart 
Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold: 
If that thou be"st a Roman, take it forth; 
Strike, as thou didst at Caesar ; for, I know, 
I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart : 
When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better 
Than ever thou lovedst Cassius. 

Bru. Sheathe your dagger : 

Be angry when you will, it shall have scope ; 
Do wha'; you will, dishonour shall be humour. 
O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb 110 

That carries anger as the flint bears fire ; 
Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark, 
And straight is cold again. 

Cas. Hath Cassius lived 

To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus, 
When grief, and blood ill-temper'd, vexeth him? 

Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill-temper'd too. 

Cas. Do you confess so much? Give me your hand. 

Bru, And my heart too. 

Cas. O Brutus! 

Bru. What's the matter? 

Cas. Have not you love enough to bear with me. 
When that rash humour which my mother gave me 120 



288 READING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

Makes me forgetful? 

Bru. Yes, Cassius; and, from henceforth, 

When you are over-earnest with your Brutus. 
He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so. - 

A few words of introduction are first necessary. We 
should understand the play as a whole, and be conversant with 
the events that lead up to this particular scene ; further, we 
should bear in mind the tense, splenetic character of Cassius, 
and the calm, controlled, stoical disposition of Brutus. 

1. 1. — In Scene 2 we get the keynote to Cassius' manner. 
He is so full of his supposed wrong that he pays no heed to 
the surroundings, and bluntly plunges into the matter in 
hand. Brutus restrains him, and together they move to the 
former's tent. No sooner do they enter than again Cassius 
bursts forth. 

1. 4. — Cassius is piqued that his letters should have failed 
to shield Lucius Pella from the punishment for his wrong- 
doing. 

1. 5. — Subordinate and explanatory. 

1. 6. — Brutus 's answer is simple and direct, yet without 
feeling. 

1. 8. — Nice is equivalent to unimportant, small. There is 
a touch of contempt in this speech. 

1. 9. — Again we note the directness of Brutus 's statement, 
and the absence of feeling. Note, too, that he in no way 
seeks to soften his charges. 

1. 12. — Imagine the surprise and rage of Cassius. There 
will be a sweeping upward inflection on /. It is only with 
the utmost effort that the fiery Cassius can control himself. 

1. 15-16. — Paraphrased, these lines mean. The name of 
Cassius is associated with this corruption, and hence the 
hands of justice are tied. For, to bring the corrupters to trial 
would be to drag in Cassius v/ith them. 



HINTS ON READINGS 289 

1. 17.- — Do you dare to use the term. chastiseme7it in Gon- 
nection with mt/ name? 

1. 18. — Unmoved by the anger of Cassius, Brutus 
proceeds calmly and perhaps too ruthlessly to arraign his 
friend. 

1. 21. — Observe the high moral standard of Brutus. 

1. 21-26. — Eising inflections throughout. 

1. 27. — Observe the contempt. 

1. 28. — During the speech of Brutus, Cassius can scarcely 
contain himself. Never has any one dared to arraign him. 
Now he is even forgetting the deference he has been wont to 
show to one whom he recognizes as his superior. 

1. 32-34. — Eapidly, as the passion of the men rises. 

1. 35-36. — Now Cassius begins to threaten. 

1. 37. — There is no anger in this. Brutus knows that 
Cassius is beside himself, and brushes him aside as one would 
brush an insignificant dust speck from his clothing. 

1. 38. — Such treatment Cassius cannot understand. The 
line is exclamatory rather than interrogative. It is equiv- 
alent to, Can I believe my ears? 

1. 38. — Brutus now begins to assert himseK. It is a new 
aspect of his character, which we can comprehend only when 
we learn, as we do later, that Portia is dead. 

1. 40. — Brutus must be greatly moved to call his dearest 
friend a madman. 

1. 41. — The strain of listening to such words is becoming 
too great for Cassius to bear. 

1. 42. — Brutus seems almost to enjoy the terrible lesson he 
is reading Cassius. It is well-nigh incredible that the 
thoughtful, loving husband of Portia, and the considerate 
master of Lucius, should speak thus to any one, let alone his 
best friend. ■ • • . 

1. 50, — There seems to be no feeling but surprise in this, 



290 EEADING IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS 

surprise verging on bewilderment. As Brutus grows more 
passionate Oassius seems to subside. 

L 51-54. — It is Brutus now who appears to lose self- 
control. Cassius never said he was a better soldier. 

1. 55-57. — Anger and bewilderment give way to a sense of 
having been wronged : the last sentence is almost pathetic in 
its humility. 

1. 57. — Anger and contempt. 

1. 58. — Cassius' passion is again beginning to rise. 

1. 59-62. — Note the increasing astonishment in the 
speeches of Cassius, and the superciliousness of Brutus. 

1. 63-64,^ — -A threat uttered not so much in anger as in fear 
that he may not be able to control his feelings. 

1. 65. — Have and should are the emphatic words. 

1. 65-82. — This speech needs no commentary. It is a 
plain and unmistakable arraignment, uttered in unequivocal 
language, and in simple, direct manner. 

1. 82. — Cassius is pained that his friend should so mis- 
understand him. From now to line 93 Cassius seems to 
throw himself upon the mercy of his friend, while the latter 
repels his advances, each time with greater harshness. 

1 93-107. — Cassius' heart is broken. If his best friend 
can so wantonly misunderstand him, what can he hope from 
his enemies? There is nothing left to live for, d,nd he would 
eagerly welcome death even at the hands of Antony. The 
passage is overflowing with heartbreak, and gains our sympathy 
for one who else would seem but a crafty, self-seeking schemer. 

1. 107. — The speech of Cassius brings Brutus back to him- 
self. Here is the real Brutus, full of tenderness and love. 

To understand fully the unusual display of feeling in this 
scene we should read further to the stage direction, Re-enter 
Lucius^ with wine and taper. 



INDEX TO SUBJECTS 



Antithesis, rhetorical, 143. 

Atmosphere, 184; examples illus- 
trating, 185 ; analysis of a selec- 
tion illustrating, 193; of des 
cription, psychology of, 199. 

Central idea, 138 ; study of, a log- 
ical process, 141. 

Character, contrast of, 207, 

Climaxes, 313 ; of significance, 313, 
314, 315; of intensity, 313; 
gradation of, 316. 

Complexity, defined, 11. 

Contrasts, 305; two kinds of, 211. 

Criteria of vocal expression, 17. 

Criterion of force, 101. 

Criterion of pitch, 43. 

Criterion of quality, 80. 

Criterion of time, 19. 

Emotion, 173; affects quality, 82; 

how to develop, 173; contrast 

of, 205. 
Emotional transitions, examples 

of, 162. 
Emphasis, rules for, 139 ; drills in, 

140. 
Expression, complexity of, 178 

Figurative interrogation, 61. 
Force, criterion of, 101; peda- 
gogical aspects of, 112. 

Grouping, 28, 138 ; independent of 
punctuation, 38; extract from 
Legouve on, 40. 

Hints on readings, 354 



Imagination and quality, 84. 

Imitation, 337; not art, 189; ten- 
dency toward, 191. 

Inflections, meaning of, 57 ; rising, 
57; falling, 63; circumflex, 
examples of, 67. 

Intangibility, defined, 11. 

Interj)retation, literary, 331 ; 
vocal, 333. 

Key, defined, 45; reasons for, 49; 
dependent upon degree of 
tension, 54. 

Literary interpretation, 331 ; 
analysis of a selection illus- 
trating, 384. 

Melody, 43, 54 ; analysis of a selec- 
tion illustrating, 71; of long 
sentences, 77. 

Mental attitude of the reader, 117. 

Mental technique, 139. 

Methods, mechanical, 9; "get- 
the-thought, " 9; laxity of, 13; 
concluding remarks on, 324. ,_ 

Momentary completeness, 61, 136; 
drills in, 65 ; analysis of a selec- 
tion illustrating, 356. 

Movement, analysis of selection 
illustrating, 366. 

Pause, as related to time, 37; an 
expressive element, 33; ex- 
amples of, 35. 

Pedagogical aspects, of time, 38; 
of pitch, 75; of quality, 98; of 
force, 112. 



291 



292 



INDEX TO SUBJECTS 



Phases, studies in, 163. 

Phrases, subordinate, 150, 

Pitch, criterion of, 42; meaning 
of, 42 ; Raymond's definition of, 
42 ; melody of, 42 ; analysis of a 
selection illustrating, 71 ; peda- 
gogical aspects of, 75 ; low, 107. 

Primary reading, the teaching of, 
118. 

Punctuation, effect upon reading, 
30. 

Purpose of the reading lesson, 12. 

Quality, criterion of, 80 ; physics of, 
80; effect of emotion upon, 82; 
Rush's classification of, 82; 
orotund, 83; imagination and, 
84 ; elevated feelings in relation 
to, 85; normal, 90; examj)les of 
normal, 91 ; aspirated, 92 ; dark, 

I 94; bright, 94; examples of 
dark, 95; examples of bright, 
97; pedagogical aspects of, 98; 
William L. Tomlins, on, 100. 

Reading and literature, relation 
of, 10. 

Requisites for the teacher of read- 
ing, 10. 

Rhythm, analyses of selections 
illustrating, 236, 244, 254 ; study 
in, 232; meaning of, 238. 

Sight reading, 120. 

Skip, psychology of the, 56. 

Stress, defined, 101; radical, 101; 
final, 102; degrees of, 103; Ray- 
mond's definition of radical, 



104; Raymond's definition of 
final, 105; median, 106; ex- 
amples of radical, 107 ; examples 
of final, 109 ; examples of median, 
110. 

Subordinate phrases, 150. 

Subordination, 149. 

Succession of ideas, 132. 

Suggestive lesson, 121, 130, 136, 
147, 155, 167, 173, 197, 209, 221. 

Teacher of reading, requisites for, 
10. 

Teaching reading, mechanical 
method of, 9; "get-the-thought" 
method of, 9 ; laxity of methods 
of, 13; concluding remarks on 
method of, 224. 

Technique, defined, 226. 

Time, criterion of, 19; Raymond's 
definition of , 19; psychology of , 
19; expansive paraphrase to 
reveal, 20 ; examples of slow, 21 ; 
examples of fast, 23 ; analysis of 
selection illustrating, 26; rela- 
tion of quantity to, 27 ; relation 
of pause to, 27; pedagogical 
aspects of, 38. 

Transitions, 159, 160; emotional 
examples of, 162. 

Values, 157; examples of, 157; 
analysis of a selection illustrat- 
ing, 256. 

Vocal expression, criteria of, 17. 

Vocal interpretation, 232. 

Voice, defects in, 81. 



INDEX TO FIRST LINES OF SELECTIONS 



A fool, a fool ! — I met a fool, 48. 
A land of streams, 240. 
Alas ! my noble boy ! 95. 
Among the exploits of marvelous, 

152. 
And as a hungry lion, 79. 
And do you now put on your best 

attire, 140. 
And now go bring your sharpest 

torments, 110. 
And the evening star was shining, 

87. 
And the old Tartar came upon the 

sand, 185. 
And thus King Priam supplicat- 
ing, 165. 
And you, — you who are, 152. 
Antonio, I am married to a wife, 

44. 
Arise, shine; for thy light is 

come, irO. 
As thro' the land at eve we went, 

200. 
As when a boar or lion, 164. 
As when some hunter in the 

spring, 208. 
At Atri in Abruzzo, 78, 154. 
At Flores in the Azores, 284. 
At the moment when death, 38. 
Awake, my soul ! Not only passive 

praise, 87. 

Before a quarter pole was pass'd, 

24. 
Blessings on thee, little man, 175. 
Blow trumpet, for the world, 201. 
Blow winds, and crack your 

cheeks! 94, 242. 
Bury the great Duke, 87. 
But in the gloom they fought, 107. 



But Rustum eyed askance the 

kneeling youth, 201. 
But wiien public taste, 79. 
But when the gray dawn stole 

into his tent, 28. 

Did your letters pierce, 188. 

Ferood, and ye, Persians and Tar- 
tars, hear! 162. 

Figure to j^ourself a cataract, 22. 

For even then. Sir, even before, 
112. 

Fresh as the flower, whose modest 
worth, 153. 

Gloriously, Max! gloriously ! 28. 
Great have thy sufferings been, 

166. - . . 

Gusty and raw was the morning, 

193. 

Half a league, half a league, 236. 
Haste thee, nymph, 48, 239. 
Hear the sledges with the bells, 

98. 
Hector, thou almost ever chidest 

me, 164. 
Here are old trees, 239. 
He spoke, and Solirab kindled, 

202. 
He spoke; but Rustum gazed, 

162. 
Him the Almighty power, 242. 
Ho ! gallant nobles of the League, 

112. 
However as the sun baked, 151 . 
How lovely are thy dwellings fair I 

23. 



393 



294 



INDEX TO FIRST LINES OF SELECTIONS 



How now, Tubal! 305. 
How the robin feeds her young, 
176. 

I can not tell what you and other 
men, 180. 

I come, I come ye have called, 
239. 

If there be three in all your com- 
pany, 307, 

If you have tears, prepare to shed 
them now, 163. 

I had a dream, 47. 

I know that virtue to be in you, 
317. 

In 1815 M. Charles Myriel, 58. 

In his early manhood, 153. 

In the furrowed land, 134, 

I sprang to the stirrup, 333. 

It IS but a legend, I know, 47. 

It is but change, Titinius, 144. 

It is my purpose, therefore, 155. 

Lars Porsena of Clusium, 366. 
Lead out the pageant; sad and 

slow, 30. 
Let me play the fool, 97. 
Look! look! that livid flash! 340. 

Meanwhile King Robert yielded 

to his fate, 44. 
Messer Bernado del Nero was as 

inexorable, 37. 
Most of all, fellow citizens, 85. 
Most potent, grave, and reverend 

signiors, 179. 
Mr. Speaker : The mingled tones of 

sorrow, 31. 
My good blade carves the casques 

of men, 310. 

Nay, curs'd be thou, 85. 

Never, lago. Like to the Pontic 

Sea, 94. 
Next morning, waking with the 

day's first beam, 319. 
No one venerates the Peerage more 

than 1 do, 153, 



Of Man's first disobedience, and 

the fruit, 33. 
Often have I swept backward, in 

imagination, 31. 
Oh, young Lochinvar is come out 

of the west, 354. 
O, my offense is rank, 95. 
Once more into the breach, dear 

friends, 50. 
On Linden, when the sun was 

low, 170. 
On the Mountains of the Prairie, 

357. 
O pardon me, thou bleeding piece 

of earth, 316. 
O, sing unto the Lord a new song, 

113. 
Over his keys the musing organ- 
ist, 46. 
O, what a rogue and peasant slave 

am I, 53. 

Reputation, reputation, reputa- 
tion! 181. 

Sea-kings' daughter from over the 

sea, 51. 
Search creation round, 31. 
See what a grace was seated, 86. 
Sheltered by the verdant shores, 

307, 
She mounts her chariot with a 

trice, 97. 
Sir, the gentleman inquires, 160. 
Some of the softening effects, 37. 
Soon after William H. Harrison's 

nomination, 31. 
Speak the speech, I pray you, 91. 
Sweet and low, 300. 

That you do love me, I am nothing 
jealous, 146. 

That you have wronged me, 384. 

The armaments which thunder- 
strike, 108. 

The curfew tolls the knell of part- 
ing day, 189, 331. 

The empire of Blefuscu, 134. 

The father came on deck, 175. 



INDEX TO FIRST LINES OF SELECTIONS 



295 



The Lord reigneth, 111. 

The name and memory of Wash- 
ington, 28. 

Then he departed with them o'er 
the sea, 210. 

Then it was that Jo, 151. 

Then methought I heard a mellow 
sound, 25. 

Then sing, ye birds, 241. 

There's a rogue at play in my sun- 
lit room, 123. 

The trumpet, the gallop, the 
charge, 164. 

This too, thou know'st, 163. 

Three quarters round your part- 
ners swing, 157. 

Thou kingly Spirit, 111. 

Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State, 
86. 

To be, or not to be, 52. 

To whom replied King Arthur, 
243. 

Up from the meadows rich with 
com, 71. 



Venerable men! you have come 
down to us, 89. 

Vengeance! plague! death! con- 
fusion! 161. 

Whatever Lionel had said to his 
wife, 37. 

What lesson shall those lips teach 
us, 89. 

When a wind from the lands, 222. 

Wherefore rejoice? What con- 
quest, 26, 213. 

Where sweeps round the moun- 
tains, 49. 

While the Union lasts, 78. 

Wrapped in a maze of thought, 22. 

Yet his means are in supposition, 

30. 
Ye, who sometimes, in your 

rambles, 132. 
You Heavens, give me patience, 

96. 
You think me a fanatic to-night, 

23. 



LIST OF POEMS AND SELECTIONS ANALYZED 

Barbara Frietchie ^Vhittier 71 

Charge of the Light Brigade , Tennyson 236 

Horatius (The Lays of Ancient Rome) Macaulay 266 

How They Brought the Good News From Ghent to Aix 

Robert Browning 212 

The Fight of Paso del Mar Bayard Taylor 193 

The Peace-Pipe (Hiawatha) Longfellow 256 

The Quarrel Scene (Julius Caesar) Shakespeare 284 

The Revenge Tennyson 244 

Young Lochinvar. Scott 354 



SEP 29 1898 



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